Sic 'em
by Ninjer-8492
Summary: Set during the Jedi Civil War, this story follows a republic black ops team composed entirely of Dark Jedi, whose sole mission is to cause havoc for the Sith Empire. Can the team survive impossible situations while caught between the ruthless Sith and a Jedi Order that has embraced militancy?
1. Induction

Korriban, Jedi Civil War.

The two opponents squared off in the darkness of the tomb of Naga Sadow, their red blades almost the only source of illumination.

Both fighters were skilled, and both had earned, through the treachery that was customary to Sith life, the right to prove their superiority.

This was their final test. Both were at the end of their rope. Both had entertained thoughts of wanting to die during this final trial. And both knew it was now every man for himself.

One was a tall muscular human, his bald head glistening, sweat pouring down his bronzed skin. His thick brown goatee itched and he wished he could scratch it as he fought for his life against his opponent. He tried to focus his sulfurous yellow eyes away from the glare of his Sith light saber and onto the movements of his opponent, a Rodian by the name of Gwai. A Makashi user, Gwai had always demonstrated a penchant for precision attacks in the time the bald man had been in the academy. Gwai was also a bastard, who delighted in torturing ordinary citizens in the nearby colony. Nobody would miss this guy if he died.

Had this been any other area, the bald man noted with no small amount of discomfort, Gwai might very well have lasted a little bit longer.

But this was close quarters, and Gwai was a bit claustrophobic. The tomb of the infamous Naga Sadow was no place to be claustrophobic.

Too bad for him. On top of that, he was also tired. The bald man landed a furious series of vertical chops against the Rodian, triggering a desperate move that the bald man had waited for during their duel. Gwai tried to duck and somersaulted over his knees

The bald man somersaulted over a strike at his knees and ended up behind the exhausted Rodian. With an air of finality, the bald man drove his blade deep into Gwai's back, killing him instantly, twisting the blade upward just to be sure.

The bald man heard clapping from a distance away. He turned and saw the heavily inked human Master Uthar and the sultry Twilek Yuthura step out of the shadows, also inked. Both were wearing slightly fancier versions of the academy uniforms, the cuffs and lapels being more reddish than usual.

"Well, done apprentice. You have proved your superiority, and as such, you are now a full Sith. I welcome you to our ranks," crowed Uthar.

"You have done much better than I expected. The Force favors you. Gwai's technique was superior, but you have none the less succeeded as all true Sith do: by using your head," Yuthura proclaimed, her violet gaze defaced by an almost jealous envy.

"So, do I get a Sith name?" the bald man asked, ignoring the backhanded compliment.

"That will come later, apprentice. Declaring yourself a Sith before the Dark Lord has approved of you is tantamount to open rebellion-something that must be done carefully. Do you understand, young one?" Uthar asked.

"I do. The strongest must lead. That means Darth Revan."

"Only for the moment," Yuthura snorted, distaste at the mention of Revan's name evident. The Dark Lord increasingly had fewer friends and many, many, people from all walks of life eager to take a shot at her. Her inability to prevent the recent violent murders of some of her supporters were earning her daggers from the back in the Sith community.

"Be mindful of your feelings Yuthura. Revan has loyalists here," Uthar warned. "Come. It is time to leave."

"I agree. I always hate how cramped this place is," Yuthura said. The bald man noticed her suppress a shudder.

The three Sith began their trek back to the entrance, the bald man wrinkling his nose at the filth and grime of the tomb.

"I here that you have had great success excavating the Sith Meditation Sphere, in the nearby desert. It will make a fine gift to present to the Dark Lord Revan when she arrives tomorrow, apprentice," Yuthura noted. "It will almost certainly assure your acceptance by her."

"She's coming tomorrow, eh?" The bald man replied. "No matter. This just ups the timetable."

"Pardon?" Uthar asked, frowning.

Not responding, The bald man took out a detonation trigger, pressing it before either master could react.

The blast shook the entire tomb-right as he stepped into the safety zone of the force field he had installed near the entrance. He was protected while the other two had to Force push away the falling blocks.

"What treachery is this!?" Yuthura screamed, whipping out her light saber. Unfortunately, a rather large piece of rubble struck her in the face as she did so, knocking her out cold.

Uthar was about to get off a bolt of lightning at the man when more of the ceiling started to collapse. Snarling and cursing, Uthar abandoned that idea and held up the collapsing structure telekinetically as the bald man walked out.

"Well, that could have gone better. And the planet was just starting to grow on me," the bald man said to himself in his normal lighthearted tone as he looked upon the damaged grandeur of the valley of the Dark Lords. He chucked the detonator and mining shield belt into a nearby dig site, whose workers had left for the day. There was so much junk near the dig sites, it would be a miracle if anyone could figure out that anything there did not belong. As he stared at bit more at the statuary in the valley, he was forced to remind himself that in Korribans tombs were some of the most loathsome people to ever live. The whole place was a monument to abuse of power and unimaginable brutality.

Two years. Two frakking years in this place as a mole for the Republic. He had hated being here after only the first day.

It was as though all concept of civilization and manners had simply crawled away somewhere and died during his time on Korriban. The students were nothing but a bunch of vicious malcontents, perverts, or sadists who would have done better in an asylum for the criminally insane than learning about the Force in this twisted place they called an academy, so totally focused on their own advancement to the detriment of everyone else. He didn't understand how such a warped philosophy could find so many followers time and again. Some would argue that maybe the reason the Sith ideal stayed so popular was because deep down normal people didn't want to be answerable to others or want to be responsible, but he himself scoffed at this. He had seen some of these people in the Dreshdae colony nearby. Something had been wrong with them even before joining. As he walked away from the tomb he became certain he would never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy.

The worst part of the whole thing was that he had been forced to play along, forced to act the part. When they brought in Republic officers to torture, he had been forced to watch as Uthar actually conducted lessons on how to do the obscene practice to get the best results, and had to show that he had been following the lesson, much to the sick bastard's delight.

He hoped his wife and kid never found out about that part. Hell, he hoped they never found out about ANY of the things he had done to get accepted and to maintain acceptance in this cave of wolves they called an academy. All he wanted to do now was forget what had happened here and what he had done, even though he knew he would never truly forget.

A few of the students on the archeological team formed around the entrance to the tomb. the bald man paid them no heed. He had proven he was not to be trifled with. Besides, leaving the tomb alone meant declaring himself the new headmaster of the academy, something he definitely had no time for. Besides, he would have been extremely cross trying to instruct garbage to remember how to torture someone.

"You! Where is Master Uthar?!" shouted a man from the crowd as he walked past them.

Whistling, the man pulled out a second detonation trigger and pulled it.

The explosives he had installed above the tomb entrance months before, as well as rigging the tomb itself, went off. The blast knocked most of them to the ground, and the ensuing rubble buried the slow ones.

Still whistling, the man began to walk faster to a nearby side-canyon that was rarely used. He hit a control on his belt and the speeder-bike that had been hidden for months decloaked. He hit another control on his belt and deactivated the incendiary failsafe, a precaution against it falling into the wrong hands.

Not hearing anyone follow him, he activated the bike. It hummed with power as he sped off as fast as he dared into the winding pathway.

The man concentrated on the feeling of the desert wind whipping his face and grinned.

Dustil Onasi smoothed his dark brown hair back, tapping his foot impatiently as he waited for the man at their rendezvous point in the adjacent valley next to the academy. He was standing at the mouth of a small cave.

Finally, he spotted the man pulling up in his speeder bike. He hopped off it and activated the incendiary failsafe, the chemical cocktail hidden in the innards of the vehicle eating up the bike and the computer inside it that had his mission details.

"Good. You made it. I was beginning to think Gwai might have killed you."

"Bastard almost did, but I got lucky."

"That seems to happen a lot with you," Dustil noted with a bemused expression.

"Sometimes luck is all you need to come out on top."

"Yes, yes, very good. You have to clear outta here, fast."

"Your help was invaluable for infiltrating the academy. I trust my superiors can count on you for future operations in the academy?"

"Of course. And don't worry about me either. My cover's rock solid. Yuthura says I'm the finest student next to you."

"Good. But watch yourself. I wasn't able to confirm either Uthar or Yuthura dead. This business gets enough people killed as it is, even when they don't get reckless. Are the ships systems still intact?"

"Yeah. I checked it this morning. The systems are still intact. I moved it out of the cave. As far as I can tell, it's ready to go." Dustil gestured for the man to follow him and led him down a long, winding path to an area surrounded by brown rock on all sides. The sun was starting to set and so the clearing was covered in shadow.

The ship was magnificent.

It was spherical, with a sort of mottled golden color and with a prominent bronze eyeball in the front. There were no visible seams and four wing like projections extended out from the equatorial perimeter. Ancient, and not seen since Naga Sadow had reared his ugly Sith head so many years ago. Power seemed to vibrate silently off of the surface, both drawing from the both of them and then spitting it back out.

"Open," Dustil commanded.

The front of the sphere parted open and the inner wall panels reconfigured themselves for a surpriasingly comfy seat. It WAS, after all, meant for deep meditation. There were few controls. It mostly responded to thought.

"Oooo, cushy," the man said as he got in, letting the ships systems recognize him as the first to pilot it in over a thousand years. "Now THIS is what I call traveling in style."

"Yeah, whatever. Get out of here. I'll handle things and by you some time. Go!" Dustil replied.

The man nodded and ordered the ship to close the hatch, which it did.

Dustil paused for a moment while the ship, without any visible means of propulsion, rocketed off at incredible speed, giving off no sound.

Coruscant.

The Sith Meditation Sphere glided through Coruscant's orbital defense systems. It was invisible to their early warning systems as well as any Jedi who might happen to be near the landing zone, thanks to the active cloak that had turned on by itself the moment he had descended into the atmosphere, protecting it from electronic, visual, or mystic means.. He piloted the craft to a large unmarked building far from the Senate Rotunda. Completely unremarkable.

As soon as he spotted it, he sent some transmission codes to the people operating inside it and a concealed hanger opened on the top. He quickly set the ship past the hanger doors and waited for them to close above the ship before he got out. The mechanics were startled when he willed the ship to turn off the cloak

The cockpit opened and the man jumped onto the hard, durasteel floor below, where a large man in a long black coat and beret in a simple black uniform with dull grey eyes waited patiently, his clean shaven, light skinned face betraying only a hint of a smile as a squad of technician's and engineers rushed to the vehicle as the man in the Sith uniform walked past them.

"Glad to have you back with us, Evra," the man grunted in a husky voice that did not match the age in his face. The fingers on his right hand twitched constantly and he seemed to shuffle his feet out of restlessness. He put his hands on his hips and the bald man saw a light saber clipped to the belt. it was a black and silver finish, with a curve to it.

"Good to be back, Colonel Bluefin," Riordo Evra replied wearily, trying to forget the last two years. "Mission success. Brought the techs something to scratch their heads over."

"Indeed. A working Sith Meditation Sphere is quite a boon, but you my friend are the real success. Though you would technically be classified as just another Dark Jedi, for all intents and purposes you are now a fully trained Sith-working for and loyal to the Republic. Now DOOMSAYER is ready to do business. Your successful infiltration was all the assurance our superiors needed to give us the go-ahead for other operations."

"So it's official? We have a team now?"

"Yes. Under my supervision of course, but you are leading it. Walk with me," Colonel Bluefin answered.

As the pair walked out of the hanger and into the low lit hallways of their base of operations, Riordo began to catch a glimpse of other soldiers. Some were practicing at a a firing range with blaster rifles and repeaters of various manufacturers an quality, while other soldiers were practicing with red-bladed lightsabers. Evra spotted the coat of arms for DOOMSAYER, a shield with a large Republic issue boot crushing Darth Revan's mask and light saber.

"Amazing how far we've come. Just forty years ago, all this was heresay and theory. The senators weren't too keen on risking the Jedi's ire. Tried to squash it. Good thing some of them saw the need for Force Sensitives who answered to the Government, not some stupid code that never really works. It was hell getting funding for this sort of thing, and a logistical nightmare keeping it a secret from the Order. Add to the countless hours of screening our men for a suitably high enough Midi-chloral count-of which you are a shining example, and the effort it took to hire other rogue sensitives-well, you get the picture," Bluefin finished as they entered the bustling command center. A large circular room filled to the brim with monitors screening all manner of data and images and people running around like gizka with their heads cut off.

"How many do I have working with me?" Evra asked.

"Four. Two men and two women."

"Ah. Uh, Colonel, I have one concern..."

"What?"

"My eyes. They used to be blue. Now they're this icky yellow color. Is there any way to fix that?"

"I'm sorry Evra, but we still haven't developed a method for solving that. We know it's linked to chemicals in the tissue, but we have not figured out what the precise trigger is. The Jedi Holocrons we've stolen aren't very helpful either. They just drone that it's the corruption of the dark side without giving an explanation. My guess is that they never bothered to answer that question of what precisely takes place when Force energy begins altering the body. Morons. The best I can suggest is get some contact lenses. But you'll have time to worry about your baby blues later. It's time to meet your team. And here comes one of them now," Bluefin answered gruffly, gesturing to a man in a blue jumpsuit with a leather wrapped light saber dangling from his belt. He had a black buzz cut and his eyes had an ugly black color, with no visible irises. His flesh was pale and Evra could see black veins on the forehead and neck. When he smiled, his teeth were revealed as being sharp, pointy, and misshapen. He bowed slightly.

"I am pleased to meet you. I am C'bal Adek," the man said in a croaking voice with a noticeable hiss. He held out his hand.

Evra took it, curiosity at the man deepening. "Riordo Evra. I don't recall seeing you here when I was first recruited."

"I am a late addition to the organization. Colonel Bluefin felt my...particular attributes could be put to use. Do not worry. I am very skilled with my light saber and will be acting as your security specialist."

"C'bal, I need to brief Riordo. Would you assemble the rest of the team and meet in the command center in ten minutes?"

C'bal bowed again. "It shall be done Colonel." With that C'bal walked off. Evra noticed a great deal of people grew uneasy as the strange man passed by them.

"What species is he?" Evra asked.

"He's a Midichloral Manipulation, or a Test Tuber in the underground slang. He was created at the behest of an organization known as the Sith Philosophers some years back. For a long time he apparently went by his project designation, Subject 11-37," Bluefin replied. "But you'll learn all of this soon enough."

Evra followed the Colonel to his office on the far side of the center. It was bare and looked to have been newly built. There was a simple desk and two chairs. Evra took a seat as Bluefin laid out a datapad on the table.

"As you know, Evra, you are now a part of DOOMSAYER, and our organization's sole mission is this: the complete and utter destruction of Darth Revan's Sith Empire and acquiring the secret to her military war machine. In the execution of that objective, it is a necessity that our existence remain a secret. Everyone you encounter must believe you and those you travel with to be nothing more than a rogue group of Dark Jedi not aligned with Revan. As such, there are no Republic forces within the entire fleet save for the men and women working on this project and the Chancellor himself that are aware of your existence. Therefore, any Republic soldiers you encounter on the course of your journey that impede your progress you are to neutralize just like you would any other combatant in war. Same thing goes for Jedi. No exceptions."

"Understood, Colonel," Evra replied, disquieted by the fact he would have to make that discretionary call in the field. Such things were never easy.

"Now, about your team members." Bluefin produced a small holographic emitter. "I know they aren't the type you are usually used to working with but we field tested them and they get the job done pretty good."

"They'd better. I don't want my ass left hanging in the wind."

"I'll see to it that it doesn't happen. Now, this one here, C'bal-" Bluefin began to explain as he showed him the image of the strange man, "He was originally created as a sort of shape shifter and powerful telepath. He was deemed a failure."

"Why are we using him then?" Evra asked, already suspicious. He knew that Special Forces had a habit of attracting the oddballs sometimes but usually, the more predictable they were, the better.

"Because his abilities work, just not the way they wanted him to work. He can determine the thoughts of a target, can shape shift into his target with a degree of such perfection that not even other Force Sensitives can tell the difference. There's one catch: He must consume their brain to do so."

"Yuck. I mean...yuck. He, uh, hasn't developed a taste for it, has he? Because I like my brain."

"Gimme a break Riordo! You honestly think we would have let him anywhere near this unit if he were that unstable? I had an army of psychologists examine him. I even managed to bring an Iktotchi telepath in to examine where his head was at. He's perfectly sane. In fact the only reason I managed to get him on this team was the promise of corrective surgery to his face and the means to shut down that ability he has for good."

"Do you have such a method?"

"Yeah. It's experimental though. Now this next one..." Riordo switched the image to the image of a beautiful young blond woman in her early twenties, her hair cut short and curly. Her skin was a perfect beige and her eyes were the color of a sparkling ocean. She was dressed in a loose fitting white robe and tight grey trousers. Riordo peered closer.

He wasn't exactly sure what it was, but there was something...off about the woman. It was as though she was almost too perfect looking. Evra had never thought he would say that about a beautiful woman but it was almost as though her appearance was like something one would find in an art gallery. Like a walking museum piece.

The more Evra stared at the image, the more he seemed...unsettled by it.

"I seriously don't know what to make of this girl. She has one of the largest Midichloral counts I've ever seen. She rivals Revan. I have no idea how the Jedi missed her. She has refused all compensation for her service. Her name is Carra Bhakti, and she claims to be able to track Revan with an unerring degree of accuracy, which I have verified. She'll be your medic and scout."

"Any chance she's a spy for Revan?" Riordo asked, concerned.

"No. She's no spy. I had that Iktotchi analyze her too. No deception. Thing is, he couldn't tell me where she was from, her back ground, or even what Jedi master trained her. All we know is that she has full Jedi training and a willingness to help us. Nothing else."

"A huge risk," Riordo snorted. "Not exactly a big incentive for trust."

"Hey, Evra, I couldn't pass this woman up. Our own main force is still a bit rocky when it comes to the light saber. When a powerhouse like her comes along, you snatch it and hold on. Now this guy..." Bluefin trailed off, coughing a bit, switching to an image of a man in rusted looking Mandalorian armor and a tattered black cape. "This guy's a real deal Dark Jedi. Mean bastard. Calls himself the Executioner. Hates Revan with a passion. Seems he was at that final battle of Malachor and he never accepted Revan defeating his people. At some point along the line he discovered he was Force Sensitive and managed to steal a Jedi Holocron. He now trains to kill Revan. He's your heavy weapons and light saber expert."

"He's a team player though, right?"

"Relax, he'll do what he's told...with enough prodding."

"Okay, who's next?"

"The second woman on the team." The image shifted to a very dark skinned woman wearing animal hides that left little to the imagination. Her eyes were the same yellow as Evra's. She was bald.

"Her name is Tul-Pa. Backgrounds also a mystery. Her Force signature is-strange. Almost like she isn't there at all. Like she's a hologram, but solid. Got a bit of an attitude. She'll be your sniper and camouflage expert."

"She uh, don't wear a lot, does she?" Evra grinned.

Bluefin chuckled. "Hey, when you get skilled people on such short notice, you have to tolerate some eccentricities."

"Not a complaint. She's easy on the eyes."

Bluefin cocked an eyebrow. "Don't you have a wife and two children, Evra?"

"What?! I'm just saying! Can't I enjoy the view?"

"I think you were with the Sith too long, Riordo. You wouldn't have said anything like that a year ago."

Riordo paused for a moment and then a frown developed. He felt an intense guilt develop suddenly.

"Hell, Colonel, I think you might be right. Those guys at the Sith Academy, they ain't got much of a life. The whole time I was there I had to balance training with watching my back. All those guys think about is how much better they are than the ordinary. Most of 'em have no respect for common decency. The women training there were getting almost constant come-ons. Eventually I just got-numb to it," Evra replied quietly, somewhat sullen.

"Ah, don't get yourself worked up. You remembered your loyalties. The Sith have never been anything more than barbarians, descended from barbarians who mated with failures. That's why they can't change: They're stuck in a loop, just like the Jedi are. Modern Sith Imperialism can't survive us, the notion of guerilla warfare. Just you wait, we'll be standing over Revan and Malak's corpses soon enough. Now enough pep-talk. Let's go meet the team," Bluefin said, heading for the exit, Evra following close behind, the doubt leaving his face. Inwardly however, the guilt grew more intense.

The whole team was waiting at the large table of the breifing room as Evra and Bluefin walked in.

"I assume that we are go?" the Executioner asked with a gruff, accented baritone betraying his Concord Dawn colony origin. The rust on his formerly black armor even more noticeable in person. Evra had fought in the Mandalorian wars and was one of the few soldiers who left Revan once the war was over. It seemed unthinkable for a Mandalorian to let his armor fall into such disrepair. It seemed like the action of a man who no longer cared what people thought of him. Evra looked away as The Mandalorian's red visor turned to him.

"Yes. As you know, Revan is still trying to build allies on the mid rim systems before she makes an attempt at the core. Currently, she is in negotiations with delegates of the Morenva system. The government of that world is extremely suspicious, and negotiations will be thrown into chaos if something major happens. Which brings us to this water treatment facility here."

The Colonel punched a button on the holo-monitor and an image of a large, domed facility with thousands of pipes snaking out from the bottom greeted them.

"This is the major water treatment facility for the whole planet. Revolutionary in design. The pride of Morenva's engineers. I want you all to go in pretending to be Sith and destroy the facility. The reason Revan is negotiating with Morenva's delegates is because of their large quantities of underground Tibanna Gas deposits. If she gets her hands on all those resources she'll have a virtually unlimited supply of ammunition for her troops in that sector. Trouble is, she has to get past Morenva's history with the Sith." Bluefin stopped a moment and began coughing and hacking before he cleared his throat got himself under control.

"History?" Evra asked. Bluefin's coughing had gotten worse since last they had met.

"Morenva was turned into a death camp by Exar Kun forty years ago. Twenty percent of the population was wasted, even when they hadn't fought at all. They've recovered since then and their economy is booming."

"Why would they even consider negotiating?" Tul-Pa asked with a noticeable accent that Evra couldn't quite place. Shadows seemed to dance across the woman's bare flesh and Evra was sure that for a split second he had seen her whole body shimmer, as though it was a mirage.

"Because their army isn't large enough to resist. But they can do what the Selkath are doing on Manaan: Threaten to destroy their resources. Unlike the Selkath though, they aren't neutral. They know the Republic is going to lose if our fortunes don't change. So they're trying to buy themselves some breathing room. There are many in the population however, who are looking for an excuse to lash out. We destroy the facility, we start planetary wide riots-leaving Revan to pick up the pieces."

"And then what? What's this all leading to?" the Executioner asked impatiently.

"The general goal is to remove Revan from power-and put it in Malak's hands. He's ambitious, but he doesn't have her tactical brilliance. He just uses brute force. That will buy us some time until we can muster up a hit squad for him-and even more time to acquire the location of _this..." _

Bluefin changed the image to that of what seemed to be a massive space station. It was spherical at the center with four large fins on it's sides.

"What in the frak is that?" Evra asked.

"We don't know. Our spy in the Sith Fleet managed to hack the navicomputer on Revan's flagship and send it to a team of Bothans in his pay. Many of those Bothans died getting us this information. We aren't sure whether it's a space station or factory or both, but the spy was adamant in his certainty that this...thing is the key to Revan's resource output. If the Republic can capture this thing-or replicate it-we'll be able to really fight on an even footing."

Looking at the station-or whatever it was-sent a chill down Evra's spine. The design wasn't an ugly one-yet there was a sense of wrongness that permeated the image just the same.

"But in order to do that, we need Ol' Metal Face out of the way. The plan is to lure Revan to Morenva after we destroy the facility. She'll want to launch an investigation and clear her name. That's when we strike."

"I got a bad feeling about this," Evra said. "Revan is a fully trained Sith Lord. I've got some tricks, Colonel, but not the kind that would allow me to kill her."

"That's where I come in," Carra at last spoke, her voice soft and warm to the ears. "I will engage her. And behead her."

"You really think you can take her?" Evra asked. "I've heard stories..."

"I know her better than anybody else. I know what she's thinking. I know what she'll do before she does," Carra replied cryptically. Evra took a look into her eyes and suppressed a shiver. There was indeed something wrong with the girl. It wasn't just her too perfect looks, but the gaze she had when saying she would kill Revan, like she was a few shots short of a full blaster clip.

"Sounds like a Force Bond," C'bal noted aloud, his voice had an oily undertone to it, which Evra was only just starting to really notice.

Evra did have to wonder how stable someone like C'bal really was. Evra wondered how stable he himself would be if he could eat people's brains for information. Would any of the information he consumed remain?

Riordo started to wonder if perhaps he was better off than he thought.

"Of a sort," Carra replied, glancing at everyone in the room. The strange thing about her stare was that even when it was focused right on someone, it never seemed to be really staring directly at them. It was like she was daydreaming when she made eye contact.

"How did you get bonded to her?" C'bal asked.

"Perhaps later. Colonel, I assume we have a failsafe in case something goes wrong?"

"Yeah. But we'll...cross that bridge when we get to it. Enough talk. It's time to suit up and move out. Good luck, gentlemen," Bluefin saluted the team and everybody got up and headed for the armory.

_I'm gonna need all my luck for this. I hope it holds out, _Evra thought ruefully. Something was almost certainly going to go wrong. It was too soon, too brazen for an attack like this.

Evra checked his lightsaber before clipping it to his belt as he finished putting on the black robes that had been supplied to him. Carra had taken them also but black robes did not disguise the fact that even with such ominous clothing, she could not have been less like a Dark Jedi had she tried. The other members of the team had refused them, looking dangerous enough as it was.

The armory was a cramped, cold place covered in durasteel, and Evra wished they could have made the ceiling just a tad higher as everybody checked their weapons and equipment. It looked as though it hadn't been used in some time. But that is the price one pays for establishing their base of operations in what was once a factory for after market droid parts.

"This your first combat mission, Evra?" the Executioner asked, examining his double-bladed lightsaber, a blackened, unfriendly looking weapon that looked like it had been cobbled together from a speederbike handle and what lightsaber parts he could find-or steal.

"No. I'm a vet of the Mandalorian wars. Saw action at Dxun, Serroco, Ares III-"

"Ah. Fought at Dxun myself. It would have been a glorious battle if Revan hadn't ruined everything."

"What do you mean?"

"Wars are meant to be fought against warriors. Revan was never a warrior. Didn't think like one, didn't fight like one. She relied on that Force of hers far too much."

"How do you explain what you're doing now then? How do you justify it?"

"This is merely retribution for the knife she thrust into our people's heart with her treachery. I cannot fight her in honorable combat. Her sorcerer's ways would surely deny me that pleasure. So I must resort to sorcery of my own. Regrettable, really."

"What do you consider honorable combat?"

"Hand to hand."

"You sound like one of the old Mandalorian Crusaders from the Exar Kun war."

"Indeed. My father was one. When the Neo-Crusaders took control of my people with their regiments and their strange armor, I followed suit, wanting to avenge my father's death at the hands of Jedi. Quickly, I realized that the Neo-Crusaders cared nothing for the old ways of doing things, when war meant everything. I fought to simply destroy. They fought to conquer. What were they going to do with a whole galaxy? Too big. I keep my armor in this state to symbolize how utterly their concept of honor and glory failed our people. There is no honor in war. Only destruction. Honor is one of the blackest lies ever told to our people. We should have re-embraced our true selves instead of carrying on Exar Kun's dream of conquest. We should have fought to destroy, not to rule."

"Hmm. I take it you don't see a need to try and rebuild?"

"Rebuild? Rebuild what? Our path is set in stone. Give us a few more years and we'll be nothing more than a pathetic band of mercs. My people-the true Mandalorian people-are forever dead and buried, and the ones who wear that ugly armor are nothing more than pretenders-no matter how many 'traditions' they adhere to."

"I see. You're just gonna be a barrel of laughs, aren't you?"

"Obviously," came the Mandalorian's reply.

"Well, at least you're seasoned. I was worried they had sent a complete rookie," Tul-Pa said, slinging a Blastech IDF-4 Sniper Rifle over her shoulder and examining her lightsaber pike. The shadows that seemed to dance across her already black skin seemed to quiver as she held it.

"What about you? What's your story?" Evra asked.

Tul-Pa smiled. It was a cruel one. Malicious.

"My master created me from the blackness of his heart and could not destroy me." As she said this, her body seemed to sink into a pool of blackness under her feet and disappear, much to Evra's shock. The pool of darkness raced behind him and Tul-Pa suddenly sprang out of it wrapping an arm around his neck. All she had to do was yank and he'd be dead.

"Good thing we're working together, eh?" Tul-Pa asked. Without waiting for a reply, she ran her tongue along the edge of Evra's ear. He suppressed a shiver, because the tongue was impossibly cold, like a cube of ice.

"Yes. Good thing. Very good. Let go," Evra said. He'd have to watch her if he knew what was good for him. Though she was beautiful, her touch carried a taint with it that could only be felt with the Force. Evra wanted to scrub himself until his skin was raw just to get that taint off him.

"Hmm...very well." Tul-Pa let go and Evra started massaging his neck. her grip had been tight and his neck was cold from Tul-Pa's unnaturally frigid breath.

Tul-Pa went back to her spot to double-check her equipment when she saw Carra staring at her.

"What're you staring at, blondie?" Tul-Pa asked, her tone unfriendly.

"I'm not sure what I am staring at," Carra answered, her gaze unsure. "All I can say for certain is that you are not what you seem."

"Humph. Nor are you. You're pretty good at masking your true appearance. But I do not feel it wise to go beyond that. So let us do each other the courtesy of ignoring one another," Tul-Pa replied neutrally.

"I agree," Carra replied as casually as possible.

Though the exchange seemed to have ended there, Evra, who had been watching the whole thing saw a fountain of poisonous black sprout from Tul-Pa's Force Aura and a much stronger pillar of light pulsate from Carra's.

Evra made a quiet note of this. Friction already. Not good.

"You ladies gonna get into a cat fight or something? Because we leave in ten minutes and we have to familiarize ourselves with the layout of the facility on the way to Morenva," the Executioner grumbled.

C'bal, who rarely spoke until he needed to, as Evra was starting to note decided to chime in. "I agree. We have plenty of time for infighting after the mission. We should report to Bluefin."

Tul-Pa looked over C'bal with obvious distaste. "Fine C'bal, we'll report to your slave master."

C'bal grinned and showed his unpleasantly pointy teeth. "He is not my slave master. I would watch that cold tongue of yours. I eat brains for a living. But I see such a threat toward you would make little difference: You have no brains to speak of. It would be like trying to eat a piece of shadow. However, My creator, Darth Hippocratus, always encouraged me to try new things..."

Tul-Pa bristled at this, but something in those sulfurous eyes of hers made Evra wonder just how on the money C'bal had been, and whether he knew more about her than he was letting on.

"Enough!" Evra yelled. "We don't need this, not on our first mission. Everybody report to the hanger on the double!"

Tul-Pa looked as though she was about to protest but instead simply nodded and left the armory without another word. The Executioner chuckled and followed soon after. C'bal sighed and went after him, Carra patting him on the back to comfort him over Tul-Pa's insult. Evra, realizing he had been thrown in with yet another gang of lunatics, decided he'd have to watch all of them from now on as he left the armory.

The five didn't say anything as they got into the orbital shuttle. Carra took a seat next to the Executioner, noting the discomfort in Evra as he sat next to Tul-Pa and C'bal.

Carra massaged the bridge of her nose. Had she taken her medicine? Once, she had imagined she had taken it and it hadn't been until a few hours later that she realized she had spent that time imagining-believing-she was back with her husband and child.

Carra discreetly checked a small pouch in one of her pockets, methodically counting the number of anti-psychotic medication she had left.

Yes, she had taken her morning dosage. Nothing to worry about, nothing at all. She could remain lucid for the trip.

And if she couldn't...well...a double dosage and a round of tranquilizers never hurt anyone.

Carra was positively eager to go. The sooner she killed Revan the sooner she could shatter the parasitic bond that had made most of her life one long moment of walking on eggshells. The lifetime of taking pills to suppress the unwanted bond-pills that were beginning to fail-would stop. And then she could go back to her family and she could go back to being a simple bank accountant. Happily ever after.

Carra examined her light saber. A curved hilt with a beveled emitter shroud, similar to Revan's, much of Carra's techniques were based off of the Sith Lord's. If it had merely stopped there, Carra would have been content to leave Revan be and live her life free of the hassles that so many other Sensitives were sucked into.

But the problem stemmed from the fact that not only did Carra share power and skill, but also memories in a one-way manner.

Revan was doing terrible things in order to win. Her most vile ambitions and petty resentments flooded into Carra without pause daily. Once, while taking her child out for a day at the beach, she had suddenly imagined she was Revan choking an incompetent underling. She had snapped out of the delusion just in time to find to her horror that it had been her own son.

He had lived, but Carra had not been able to live with herself. She had allowed her husband to have her committed to the local asylum.

That was what had done it for her. She had broken out of the mental hospital that very night, determined to kill Revan and put an end to this madwoman who choked people with her mind for a simple mistake. The two simply could not co-exist.

Tracking the Sith was not difficult. Carra knew where Revan was at all times-including now, eating cereal at the table with Malak and a son of her own, noting how Malak had sunk into a depression and was now having medication of his own given to him intravenously.

It was the getting to her part that Carra was having difficulty with. Revan had some excellent defenses, and rarely was in a position where she was vulnerable.

It was not until an old friend had given her some aid had she been able to make any progress...

Her friend had bribed the Iktotchi Telepath who psychologically screened candidates and had helped her go through the proper channels to make contact with DOOMSAYER.

Carra blinked and tried to hold back the rising bile in her throat as some of the medication she had taken this morning began to make her nauseated. Her vision swooned and she saw spots. The sick feeling got worse as she felt the shuttle lift off and head for a nearby cloaked Republic warship that would serve as the command post for Bluefin for future assignments.

She was not sure of the minutes that passed...she rarely paid attention to such abstract concepts as time. All she knew was that The Executioner was nudging her roughly to get up.

"Move it," He ordered.

Carra heard him as though she was underwater. The meds must have hit her harder than usual this time. She got up and her feet felt strangely rubbery. Following the others off the ship, she absently asked a crewman where the restroom was.

After being given the directions, the crewman seemingly melted out of existence due to the haze of her medication as she proceeded down a corridor whose features teasingly melted in the corner of her eyes. It was with no small amount of relief that she finally located the restrooms.

Finding a private stall, she went in and closed the stall door behind her, got on her knees and promptly vomited her breakfast. Her stomach felt like there were a few shards of glass dancing around in it. The ulcers were getting very bad. She would have to resort to another type of medication soon. She leaned back and closed her eyes, feeling the ship rocket off into hyperspace.

Carra tried not to move too much from the humiliating position of kneeling before a toilet. If she attempted to stand now she would likely fall and injure herself.

Instead, she pulled out an old holo of her family, their faces staring back lovingly.

"I'll see you soon," she whispered.

Morenva, Water Treatment Facility, nineteen hours later.

To outsiders, Morenva's top of the line facility was a modern marvel, using the most efficient techniques in water purification and recycling. Billions of gallons flowed through the pipes snaking out from the bronze colored, domed building whose height rivaled that of a skyscraper on Coruscant, and whose width was about half a block of territory.

Morenva had originally been a mostly human colony that had settled outside Republic jurisdiction. The planet had been a treasure trove of raw materials and the colony had grown from a small backwater to a very serious financial player on the mid-rim.

That was, of course, before Exar Kun.

In typical fashion for a Sith, Kun conquered the planet for its resources and had forced the majority of the population into work camps. The intolerable conditions killed thousands. A resistance, surprisingly, had eventually mustered enough power to drive the Sith off of Morenva, but not without an even more horrendous loss of life on both sides. Kun had continually tried to reconquer Morenva only to find that the resistance managed to thwart him at every turn. The only thing that kept Kun from bombarding the planet was that it would have made it to hazardous to mine afterward (And, perhaps, pride) . Eventually, at the close of that war, a humiliated Exar was forced to finally abandon Morenva, swearing that the Sith would eventually return and make slaves of them all. Many historians today are split over this statement. Was it a foreshadow of Darth Revan's attempts to make use of Morenva's resources or just the final, embittered verbal stab of one of history's most infamous blowhards?

Regardless of how true the statement may or may not become with the state of affairs as they are, most historians agree that Morenva was unique in the ongoing wars with the Sith: it showed just how truly vulnerable they were to diehard guerilla attacks. The inflexibility of the Sith had truly been lain bare during that war, and rogue Force-Sensitives from all walks of life found themselves taking notes. It was only fitting, then, that the first major blow of many future guerilla attacks against the Sith was to occur on Morenva once more.

A shuttle descended on the atmosphere, it's engines outfitted for silent running. A stealth field generator masking it from eyes both mechanical and organic.

It settled in a nearby field. The entry hatch hissed open ever so gently and out strode its heavily armed occupants.

Evra, who had spent the last ten hours running drills on his squadmates for the layout of the facility, checked the security around the perimeter with his binoculars.

Four guys in black jumpsuits with cheap rifles patroling the force field barrier at the front of the entrance. Pathetic.

Evra signaled Tul-Pa. She brought out her rifle. The Executioner readied his medium repeater as he lay hin the grass.

Carra concentrated and one of the men began to choke and cough. The other three went to investigate and were brought down by Tul-Pa and the Executioner's fire.

Evra moved quickly, bringing out his lightsaber and heading for the nearby terminal that controled the field. he sliced it in two. The field powered down.

The four moved quickly, Evra taking point as they reached the large industrial sliding doors. Dawn had already begun and the orange sun was already bright over the horizon.

Tul-Pa pulled out an ICE breaker and began to hack the door. She attached the small, disk shaped machine to the security panel and within seconds it had slid open

Evra peered inside.

A whole bunch of men in blue jumpsuits stared back. Obviously workers. Civilians.

Evra sighed mentally.

"For the glory of the Sith Empire!" he shouted, summoning all the arrogance that had been imprinted on him during his time on Korriban. "The conquest of Morenva begins today!"

His lightsaber activated and the employees began screaming and running in the opposite direction. The Executioner, as had been ordered by Evra before the Op, began firing wildly into the air, than began aiming at the legs and arms of the workers, so as to give the impression that the group had really tried to kill them. They wanted as many survivors as possible, one because Evra had not become so callous as to start commiting war crimes, and two because, if they shot up every one in the facility it would not seem like something Revan would order-Revan liked live captives and almost never killed unless she had to. Today that would work against her.

"Sic'em, gentlemen," Evra ordered, pointing to the nearby generators. The Executioner and Tul-Pa removed the explosives from their equipment pack as Carra begin using the Force to rip out the regulation valves on the pumps.


	2. Bravo Team

Morenva, Dawn.

"You got the charges set?" Riordo asked as the team finished damaging the water pumps and pressure valves.

"Yeah. Gonna see some bloody fireworks today," the Executioner grumbled, he attached another baridium charge to a power generator.

"Good. We leave in five minutes." Riordo had evaluated the team as they cleared out the facility. He had to admit, they knew what they were doing. Personal concerns about each member aside, they functioned well together.

This just might work out after-

The explosion knocked the breath out of him. He felt himself impact against a wall and the next thing he knew, he was nursing a broken arm and Carra was pulling him up.

"Tank Droids!" she yelled.

The Tank Droids-two of them, to be exact-had come from a hidden station in the floor. They weren't the large type deployed on the battle field. These kind were the type of droid usually reserved for mining on Kessel. They had a basic humanoid shape and two glowing red ocular sensors. Their color was a sterile white, meaning they were meant to be deployed in high security facilities. They had been heavily modified. There were weapons and turrets on each arm and leg of the droids.

The team took cover as one of the droids launched a rocket and their position. Carra dragged the injured and bleeding Evra behind a workstation, covering their retreat with a Force bubble as the other droid launched a hail of blaster bolts and flechette from it's weapon arms.

Tul-Pa brought out her rifle and fired at the head, but the bolts bounced off the armor as though she simply turned a flash light on it.

"Cortosis!" Tul-Pa yelled. She tried to unleash a slithering of Force lightning, but the armor absorbed that also.

"Where the hell did they get Tank Droids?" the Executioner asked, firing his repeater at the walking weapons as they advanced.

"I don't know. This wasn't in the schematics!" C'bal hissed angrily as he fired his blaster carbine at their joints. It slowed them down but did not stop them as they fired two more rockets at the pipelines and generators he and the rest were stuck behind.

Evra was trying to get his bearing. His head hurt and he couldn't see out of his left eye. His right arm twitched painfully.

Evra grabbed his pistol and fired over cover, trying to think.

He didn't have any good ideas except for Carra.

"Carra!" he yelled. "Colonel Bluefin tells me you're as strong as Revan. Prove it!"

"Err...okay," Carra replied. She stood up, still keeping the Force bubble around her. The droids fired unforgivingly at her but the blaster bolts and rockets did nothing.

Carra closed her eyes, and reached out with her hands, clenching them.

The droids stopped, being lifted into the air. Their arms and legs seemed to tear from their sockets. Their armor snapped as the Force tore the droids to scrap. They fell to the floor in a heap, ruined.

"So the blondie has some skill," Tul-Pa remarked abrasively. Carra paid her no heed, instead going over to Evra.

She pressed her hands onto Evra's broken arm. The pain started to leave Evra and his arm seemed to set itself back into place.

"Thanks. Uh, about my eye..."

"I can't help you there. The eye is too damaged. Hell, its leaking. I wouldn't even know where to start," Carra replied with a sad shake of her head. She grabbed a nearby piece of shrapnel and dusted it off, showing him his reflection.

The eyes had caught a good portion of the explosion. The jelly in the eye seeped out from a bad scrape on the side. there was dirt in it. The rest of the eyeball looked burnt.

"Ah, hell. My wife is gonna kill me," Evra groaned.

"Evra, you need to take a look at this," Tul-Pa said, staring into the darkness of some secret compartment she had discovered behind a computer panel close by.

Carra helped Evra up. He held his side, spat some blood and a tooth on the ground and peered in, shining the flashlight of his rifle into the opening.

"What the hell..." he said to himself.

It was an observation post. What was meant to be observed was a line of combat droids still being assembled. They were humanoid, and lankier than the Tanks had been. They seemed to be equipped with some sort of staff which clearly had vibroblades attached. Their faces were oval and smooth and there seemed to be no ocular or vocabulary equipment to speak of. They were colored in an unpleasant gray.

"I recognize those droids," the Executioner said. "My brother used to show me old holos of them when were were young. These are Krath War Droids."

"As in Anti-Jedi Droids?" Carra asked.

"Seems we are not the only ones interested in resisting Revan," Evra noted. "No matter. We came here to do a job and that is what we are gonna do. We can ask Bluefin later. We should get out of here."

"Easier said than done," C'bal noted uneasily. "Look behind us."

Evra turned around and saw that many more secret compartments were opening up and Krath War Droids were pouring out of every single one of them armed with Vibrostaffs.

"Ah, kek. Get to the ship!" Evra yelled, opening fire on the Droids.

The nimble droids dodged the shots and activated their staffs. Pulsing purple arcs of energy danced on the tip and they charged.

The whole team opened fires as they retreated. Carra let loose with Force pushes slamming droves of them backwards. But the droids kept advancing like locusts, skittering to their position undaunted. One threw their staff at Tul-Pa. It connected, slamming right into her chest.

Mysteriously, however, her body dissolved into a pool of darkness and reformed a moment later, with all her weapons. She smirked and fired in retaliation.

Evra saw the entrance was too far away for them to make it without being overwhelmed. They were hampered on all sides.

There was one option.

"Carra! Force bubble! I'm gonna blow the charges!"

"I don't know if the bubble will hold!" she protested.

"Then we die here. Choose now," Evra replied.

Carra nodded and threw up a bubble just as Evra hit the detonation trigger.

The world went black.

"Evra, get your lazy ass up!" the Executioner barked.

Evra blinked, coughing. Carra looked exhausted, her robes smudged and dirty. C'bal was applying Kolto patches to her cuts and scars. Tul-Pa seemed unharmed.

"The bubble held, but only barely. Seems Blondie has her limits," Tul-Pa snorted.

"I didn't see you throwing up a Force-bubble, witch," the Executioner replied, popping a dislocated arm back in place. They looked around them and saw a mess of melted Krath droids and rubble. The entrance was blocked.

"If I never live through another explosion again, it'll be too soon," Evra joked weakly. he rose up, inspected his rifle and helped the battered Carra to her feet.

"We need to go," he told everyone. "Is there a structural weak point we can use to get out?"

"There's an emergency hatch to open in case of fire," C'bal added. I believe its..." he peered around until finally spotting it, about thirty meters from where they were. He went over and hit the switch on the side. Nothing.

He frowned. "I suppose it was a bit much to ask for the mechanism to be intact after a blast like that."

Tul-Pa launched a Force push at the hatch. It was ripped off it's hinges and golden light started to poor through.

"Move," Evra ordered.

When they were on the shuttle again, Evra rested his rifle and relaxed as best as he could with the searing pain in his eye.

"There's no way Bluefin didn't know about that hidden factory. Not with his connections," Tul-Pa spat.

"Intelligence fails every now and then," Evra replied.

"With his resources? Please," she scoffed. "He was trying to get us killed."

"I don't buy it. It doesn't make sense recruiting us only to have us killed on our very first mission," the Executioner said.

"I agree. We should give the Colonel a chance to explain," Evra said. He had enough enemies in his new profession without having to make his commanding officer one of them.

"I swear, I was completely unaware of the situation on Morenva. I had no idea they had a hidden droid factory there," Colonel Bluefin claimed as the whole team stared daggers at him in the briefing room of the Republic cruiser _B'lerofon._

"You almost got us killed! You're lucky I don't rip your heart out!" Tul-Pa snarled.

"Calm yourself, Tul-Pa. I'll not have you speak to me in that fashion again. But you accomplished your mission. That is the important part. The explosions you caused set off a chain reaction that destroyed everything. It'll be years before Morenva's government recuperates from that loss and they have only the Sith to blame for their troubles," he finished with a smile.

"I still don't think this plan is gonna work," Tul-Pa said.

"Relax, crew. You did the hard part. Now we just let Morenva's prejudices against the Sith carry us the rest of the way. Dismissed. You need to prepare for the next phase. Try and get some rest," Bluefin ordered.

Tul-Pa clearly wasn't satisfied, but she left along with the others.

"Wait a second, Evra," Bluefin called out.

Evra turned around, wincing from the rush of blood to his head. The doctors had treated his eye, but there was simply no way to salvage it. He was wearing a white bandage over where it had used to be.

"I'm sorry about your eye, son. I really didn't have any clue what was going on there. I had been digging schematics on the facility for months. They must have made alterations during the time they were building it."

"It isn't me you need to convince. Half my team is convinced you tried to kill us today."

"Your team is too valuable. I need them."

"With all due respect sir, I don't think I'll be able to hold them back if something like this happens again. Don't say I didn't warn you," he replied neutrally before walking out.

As Evra headed for his quarters, the pain in the left side of his head set in. He took out the bottle of pills the doctor had given him and popped one into his mouth.

Had he really given up a retirement with his family for this? Evra wanted out after the wars. He had served in the worst conflicts. Dxun. Serrocco. Ares 3. He had even served under Arren Kae in the final battle of Malachor before the poor woman had gotten herself blown up. He had stolen a shuttle and fled the planet after his whole platoon was wiped out by Mandalorian snipers and had watched as the planet ate itself alive with the activation of the Mass Shadow Generator. What a mess that damn Zabrak had made. Even the Zabrak had supposedly gone mad with guilt afterward. And the famed General Valia Renn had lost her Jedi power as well as whatever was left of her sanity.

He had been one of the first teams on the surface after the planet had eaten itself. The landscape was hell given figure. He had spent the time down there trying to identify as many bodies as possible for the memorial service.

He had seen things that had given him nightmares for a month afterward. Insomnia was a constant problem. It was only months of therapy that he had managed to get back to a somewhat normal state. Mainly he had blocked out most of his time in the wars and he had to concentrate to remember something from them.

Evra tried to remember what it was that had made him take Bluefin's offer. At first he thought it had been something silly, like patriotism, but now that he got a closer look at it...

He realized that he no longer fit into normal society. During his retirement, he had been a shut-in, rarely going out of his house for any reason. He was annoyed talking about mundane things with the neighbors. It wasn't that he liked doing this sort of work, it was just that he didn't fit anywhere else.

But the price to go back to this sort of thing...Evra didn't think it was worth it. But he was in too deep now. And he also realized that if he really had been uncomfortable with anything, including the things he had done at the Sith academy, he could have easily said no more and left, damn the Republic's fight.

Evra decided to head to Tul-Pa's quarters and see how she was doing. He didn't need surprises from her.

He found her meditating on the floor.

"Done kissing up to the Colonel?" she asked spitefully.

"I'm satisfied with his explanation. We get it wrong sometimes, thats all," Evra said more forcefully then he intended.

"Humph. If you say so. But I will be watching him. The Colonel strikes me as a man who looks to his own interests first and everybody else second."

"And you don't?"

"At least I do not try to hide my disposition. The Colonel is a snake."

"How the hell did you get recruited, anyway?"

Tul-Pa turned around. "Tell me something, you ever want a normal life?"

"Well...yes, I guess."

"Then you don't belong here. You should find someplace else to work," Tul-Pa snapped. "We are here because we are incapable of being in normal society. We are the kind of people who love violence."

Evra wasn't buying it. Sure, he didn't feel adjusted to regular people, but that didn't mean he LIKED the killing part.

"What is the difference between us and the Sith then?"

"There is no real difference, save in motivation. The Sith are living out some tin pot power fantasy where everything and everyone bows to their whim. I fight because I get paid to...I fight because I don't really want to serve anyone but myself. And if you're smart, you'll adopt a similar policy."

"I fight to protect my family from the Sith."

"Then you are as self serving as I am. You just hide behind your family to justify yourself. It is okay, I suppose. Our kind have developed far worse excuses to fight over the years."

"You don't have any values? Anything you believe in?"

"Values are something people use to give name and voice to whatever it is they DON'T believe in, without taking time to examine anything they say they do uphold. A vicious circle."

Evra found himself even more disquieted.

"Whatever, just don't start any more trouble with the Colonel."

"Whatever, Family Man," Tul-Pa snorted.

Sensing that he had worn out his welcome, Evra left and made his way down the deck to his own quarters to meditate.

The Hand of Dark, Revan's flagship, Bridge.

"Unacceptable," Darth Revan said crossly. "Completely unacceptable. Morenva's politicians want blood. It will not be my blood that is given. I want Malak on my damn view screen, now."

Admiral Saul Karath swallowed nervously. An admiral relatively new to the job and already his life was in peril. He had known what the Sith were like when he joined-he would have been a fool if he hadn't-but he had always thought he could keep his nose clean, ride the wave of power to a new era of order in the Galaxy.

And now here he was, facing down the Dark Lord, who was asking him questions he didn't have easy answers for.

The situation was a nightmare. Darth Revan had been right in the middle of negotiations with the Sith-phobic government of Morenva when a riot had broken out at the embassy. The news-holos were reporting that a group of Sith had attacked the most prominent water facility on Morenva, blowing it to hell. Revan had quietly gotten into her shuttle and left.

Karath did have to wonder about the charge that it was Sith terrorists. It was so blatant. And while Malak was brash enough to pull something like that, Revan had kept him on a extremely tight leash since he ordered Telos bombed without Revan's orders. She hadn't done anything physical to him-he had already had his jaw blown off during the Mandalorian wars by that assassin, there was little else that could be done to him without making him worthless-but she had given him the cold shoulder for over a month now and had forbidden him from seeing their son except on supervised visits. It was a devastating loss of trust, but then again, Malak had earned such.

No, Karath decided. Malak wasn't stupid enough to risk his relationship for a petty assault.

"I'll get him on the Holo immediately, my Lord," Karath confirmed. He went over to the communications console and hot keyed in Malak's frequency.

A hologram of Darth Malak appeared on the middle of the bridge.

"Master, what is it?" he asked, confused. "I was in the middle of supervising calibration for my ships main guns-"

"Malak did you order any special operations on Morenva? Anything at all without my knowledge?"

"No. I haven't done anything like that at all. Why do you ask?"

"Don't toy with me Malak. I'm not in the mood. You're already guilty of genocide. Don't be guilty of lying to my face also."

"As I recall, my master, you are just as guilty in the same category," Malak replied angrily. "I haven't authorized any such operation. I know how important Morenva is."

The Dark Lord studied Malak's eyes, looking for any glint of deception.

"Very well. I believe you. Meet me here. We have to discuss damage control. It seems a team of 'Sith' hit the largest water facility on the planet and wrecked it half to hell."

"I shall be there at once, my Master," Malak bowed, his sarcasm evident. The transmission cut.

"Forgive me, my Lord, but is bringing Malak wise? His reputation...has gone down considerably since Telos," Karath noted. "Bringing him here is practically threatening to bomb Morenva."

"I know. We have to get this situation under control, and fast. I have to look like I would actually consider it, even though I never would," Revan replied. "We can't afford to look weak, or be weak. Valia at least taught me that much," Revan replied thoughtfully.

"It isn't just that, my Lord," Karath argued. "We can't afford to look like we are on the defensive either. Bringing Malak may just as well signify that you don't know how to negotiate without having an angry club behind your-"

Karath felt the pressure on his throat, he was gagging, struggling to breath.

Revan's hand was held in a choking manner. "I do not approve of your slander. Malak...made a mistake. That is all. This is why he is still the apprentice. Once he has fully realized the Sith way, he will not be so...unpredictable."

Karath, despite the fact he was losing air rapidly, still stuck to his point. "You've been saying that for months now. He...isn't...getting any better! Ack!"

"You risk much, Karath. Are you so certain he is uncontrollable?" she asked, dropping him.

"I would trust him with nothing," Karath replied bitterly, rubbing his neck. "If I were you, I'd drop him."

"Your objection is noted," Revan replied snappishly, turning around and viewing the blackness of space outside her window.

Republic Cruiser, B'lerofon, two days later.

"Our spy drones confirmed it two hours ago. She's going to land on the embassy and make an appeal to her innocence," Colonel Bluefin told the team.

"And fail," Evra snorted. "What are our orders?"

"Same as before...this may be the best chance we will ever get at killing Revan. We can't afford to waste this opportunity. There is just one little catch though. These coordinates I've given will already have been scouted by the Sith, to protect against sniper fire. You'll have to take the security team down silently, and take out your target some ten minutes after that. If you're captured, you're dead," Bluefin said grimly. "We cannot afford mistakes, Evra. If you fail at this, Revan will rethink her entire security strategy. It will be almost impossible to find a situation where she is this vulnerable again. But in case you do fail we have one other option."

"And that is?" Evra asked.

This ship comes equipped with the latest stealth systems and jamming equipment. But we also have one other thing: a weapon of Geonosian design. A laser."

"How powerful?"

"It'll destroy a building in one hit. Some of our guys think if it was made big enough it could take out a whole planet. The catch is is that it takes some time to charge up, and after one shot, it will shut down for cooling purposes."

"Why don't you just use that then?"

"Because it's meant to be used as a weapon of last resort. It would alert every Sith ship in orbit to our position and it will also shut down our engines for a few minutes, more than enough for an Interdictor to blow us to hell," Bluefin answered. "We estimate that Revan will arrive in little more than an hour. Attack your targets only in the last twenty minutes before her estimated arrival. That is all. Dismissed."

The stealth shuttle silently flew through the mid-day of Morenva's skyscrapers. As they approached the objective building, a hotel with domed top and massive archways on all sides with windows going straight to the bottom, Evra relayed his orders.

"Remember, no risky stuff. We're in, we're out with no one the wiser."

"This is all tactically unwise," the Executioner growled. "If it were up, to me, I'd have just bombed everything from orbit. Level the whole city."

"And that is precisely why it is not up to you," Carra said in brusque fashion.

"Ah, you and your conservatism," the Mandalorian scoffed. He turned his red visor to Evra. "Jedi women, can't take a tactical suggestion worth Anduvian beans."

"And what the hell is that supposed to mean?" Carra asked, rubbing her forehead intensely in pain.

"What, a Mandalorian can't insult somebody nowadays without them getting aggrivated? I swear, this galaxy has gone down the drain..." he muttered.

"Carra," Evra said, trying to stop the quarrel. "What is Darth Revan doing at this second?"

Carra tensed as she answered. "She's trying to talk to her son on Serreno. Her house servants say they can't find him. She is very upset."

"You know, maybe we ought to find the little bastard and shoot him. Would that set everyone's favorite Darth off balance?" the Executioner asked.

"You did that, there is no resource she wouldn't use to hunt you down," Carra replied dryly.

The Executioner paused thoughtfully before answering. "Good," he said finally. "A distracted Darth is always easy prey."

"Either way, she's gonna have trouble with that kid. He caught her and that thing that calls itself her husband doing something...unsavory to a Jedi they had captured. I don't think she understands how badly she messed that kid of hers up."

"What about her response to the attack on the water facility?" Evra pressed.

"She's already prepared a panel of evidence stating why she could not have been the one who authorised the attack. But she's getting concerned about whether or not bringing Malak was the right choice..." Carra trailed off, eyes glazing as she lived vicariously through the Dark Lord...

Morenva Embassy, noon.

Darth Revan adjusted her armor and checked her mask in the mirror.

Ten minutes after she had arrived on the planet an angry crowd had nearly overridden the security checkpoints established around her landing zone. Malak had had an egg thrown at him while Revan had something decidedly more unpleasant and smelly tossed at her in a paper bag. After quickly cleaning her armor and removing the smell, she had been waiting in the lavish VIP room trying to prepare her speech.

She was unable to focus however.

That crowd-so brazen. She had thought becoming a Sith might earn a little more fear and respect from the populace but the fact she was Sith just seemed to enrage the crowd even more. They had absolutely no fear of her, only hatred, an almost mindless urge to destroy her.

_Wait until my cause is validated. Wait until I unite this Galaxy and save them from the invasion. Then they'll love me again, _she thought to herself. It was amazing how short people's memories could be.

It wasn't just ordinary people that were unafraid of her. She had also recently been challenged by a massive guerrilla army that had appeared out of nowhere. She and Malak had been caught completely by surprise by the first bombings, which killed half her military staff including Mon Halan, also ending the life of Cariaga Sin, one of her bodyguards. She had been told that when the bomb had gone off, they had literally had to scrape Cariaga off of the walls and ceiling. What was worse was that this army seemed composed entirely of Force Sensitives. Her Jedi Hunter squads had proven useless hunting any of them down. For one, they didn't dress like Jedi, and second, they didn't act like them, being perfectly willing to fight dirty.

Her best man, Atton, had just been recovered from a rebel facility last month. He hadn't shown any signs of torture, but he didn't look exactly cared for either. The investigation was still pending on that, not to mention trying to get spies into this "Rebel Alliance" that was composed of people who should have been her constituents.

And as if that was not enough, the damn house servants couldn't find her son. He wasn't in his room, he wasn't in the private school she was shelling out thousands of credits for and he wasn't traipsing around the private beach, which was usually his favorite thing to do. He hadn't spoken to any of them since he had caught her and Malak torturing that damn Jedi for information. The facilities on her ship and Malak's were full at the time with prisoners and Malak, in his haste, suggested that they bring this special prisoner into the old dungeons underneath her family estate, now in use as wine cellars. Revan, in her haste, had agreed.

Their son had caught them right in the middle of it. He didn't scream. He didn't shout. The five year old had just sat there in shock. Revan had dropped the stun prod she had been using on the Jedi's stomach and carried him to his room herself. He didn't say anything to her, and hadn't for the past few days. Her adoptive father didn't know where he was either.

If he had run away...Revan didn't even want to think about it.

It was most likely he had gone off somewhere to try and shake off what he had seen. Malak had been distraught, and angered when Revan wouldn't allow him to try and explain to the boy, knowing for certain he would try and justify his actions to him. Revan knew her son was too simple for that. Boys that age see black and white, and cannot tell pure evil from evil done for a greater good. She herself had not quite thought of a way to tell it to her son.

But that issue had to wait. She had an insurrection to quell.

Evra silently dispatched the last Sith with a knife and Carra and the Executioner moved the bodies away from the window of the sparsely decorated hotel room that had been cleared of almost every piece of furniture as Tul-Pa and C'bal set up the giant blaster rifle. It was a fearsome beast, multiple computer systems in its scope denoting everything from curvature of the planet to wind temperature. The rifle itself was as long as Evra was tall. Tul-Pa inspected it thoroughly before setting up the mat she was to rest on and lowering the rifle's mounting to the ground as C'bal and Evra cut away a large part of the window and the wall it was attached to have a full view of the shot to be heard around the galaxy.

"I see her," Tul-Pa smirked, "Darth Malak is right next to her. And there's a blonde haired man, with a long blue robe. Brown eyes. He's terrified of Revan. His eyes are bugging out," she observed as she looked through the scope.

"That's Morenva's head of state," Carra explained. "Revan thinks he is weak. I just think he's having a bad day."

"Nobody cares what you think," the Executioner grumbled as he accessed the encrypted com-link to Bluefin's ship. "Bravo Two to Puppet master, Bravo Two to Puppet master, Tango Delta Runner is in sight, requesting permission to execute. Over."

"Uh, Bravo Two, This is Puppet master responding," came a calm controlled voice of about fifty years of age, "Just received new orders from your commander. New target is Head of State for Morenva. Shoot him, over."

"What the hell? We're here to kill Revan!" Evra snapped. "Nobody said we had to shoot a damn politician. Give me that damn thing." Evra snatched the comlink from the Executioner's hand. "Puppetmaster, this is Bravo Two Primary. Put command on the line."

"Uh, hold on a second," came the reply. Evra waited for a tense minute before he heard Bluefin's voice on the line.

"Go ahead, Primary."

"Command, if we take a shot at the politician the Tango will disappear. We may not be able to reacquire Delta Runner."

"I'm sorry, Primary, but you have your orders. Carry them out. Over and out." The transmission cut.

"Dammit!" Evra spat. "Screw this, I've come too far to pass this up now. Tul-Pa, when you're confidant you can hit Revan, you take that damn shot. I don't care what Bluefin says."

"I can't!" Tul-Pa exclaimed. "The scope-it's changed it's targeting parameters. It's only letting me lock on to the Head of State."

"Controlled weapons. Knew they wouldn't leave this up to us," the Executioner grumbled.

"Wait, something is happening down there," Tul-Pa said. "I spot four tango's moving through the crowd. They have carbines. I spot lightsabers too."

"Jedi?" Evra asked.

"No. Black clothes. Blasterproof vests. Uh,oh. I know who these guys are. It's the Dark Mercenary Corps. They're getting closer to the podium Revan is speaking from. Moving through the crowd...kek, they just opened fire," Tul-Pa said, watching as Darth Revan barely deflected the blastershots aimed at her as the mercenaries emptied their ammo into Revan and Malak's direction. She watched Admiral Saul Karath dive behind a table and blind fire over it's top as the reporters and security in the crowd tried to run, screaming their heads off as the mercenaries continued to fire.

But Darth Revan was still alive. Some of the shots had gotten through, but she was still alive, and obviously upset. She and Malak unleashed a storm of lightning and killed the mercenaries even as they tried to hold back the effects with their red lightsabers.

Tul-Pa spotted the cowering Head of State and promptly fired. His head disappeared, vaporized by the shot. The targeting systems suddenly was able to acquire Revan and Tul-Pa fired again, only for Revan to hit the deck and scramble out of the way. She fired at Malak, but he defected the powerful shots away with his red lightsaber and then ran himself as another eight mercs burst through the ceiling, rappeling down, firing their carbines.

"Dammit," she snapped. "Revan and Malak got away."

"No they haven't. We're going after them," Evra snapped. "I'm not leaving until they're dead. Pack up! Back to the shuttle!"


	3. AWOL

_"From time to time, the tree of liberty must be watered with the blood of tyrants and patriots"_

_-Thomas Jefferson_

_"War is cruelty. There's no use in trying to reform it. The crueler it is, the sooner it will be over."_

_-William Tecumseh Sherman_

"Bravo Two Primary, this is Puppet master. Our sensors are tracking you to a hostile local, please inform, Over."

"Primary to Puppet master! Delta Runner has escaped. We're in pursuit of target!"

"Primary, you are NOT authorised to pursue. Repeat, you are NOT authorised to pursue. Egress from battlefield area immediately."

"Say again, Puppet master? You're breaking up," Evra said angrily, cutting the link. He went to the cockpit of the shuttle where Carra was piloting.

"Can you catch her?"

"Yeah. She just got into her shuttle. These guys really caught her off guard, it seems. She's panicking."

"Then this is our best time to strike," the Executioner commented.

"I don't know. She's always been at her best when cornered," Carra said as she weaved through the bronze skyscrapers of Morenva.

"I'm picking up multiple hostiles on the sensors," C'bal commented from the station he was working at. "And I'm also picking up other unregistered combat shuttles in the vicinity."

"More mercs," Tul-Pa said at the comm terminal. "Five shuttles inbound on Delta Runner's transport."

"Any chance they'll catch her?" asked Evra.

"Doubtful. Revan's shuttle is at least twenty percent faster than theirs. She calibrated the engines herself. One of the few non-jedi skills she is actually good at," Carra commented glibly.

"Can we catch her?" Evra asked.

"Not on our best day," the Executioner said. "This ship is meant for stealth, not speed."

"Then we bring the schutta's ride down. Carra, bring it down."

"Are you nuts?" Carra asked, turning away from the controls. "She's in a shuttle going two hundred kilometers per hour!"

"Then pull it down! That wasn't a frakking request!" Evra shouted. "Rip it out of the sky! I don't care what happens as long as she crashes!"

"Just so you know, I've never done anything like this before," Carra warned. "I could lose concentration flying. We could crash."

"I'll fly. Don't worry," Evra assured.

"It isn't that. The field I would have to extend might interfere with the electrical systems on our own shuttle."

"Do what must be done," Evra ordered.

"Okay. Your funeral." Carra let Evra take the controls and closed her eyes, shutting out all sensory imput.

Evra, as he piloted between the buildings, noted that the lights on the helm were blinking on and off.

"She's resisting. Counteracting..." Carra mumbled to herself.

The cockpit rumbled and the shuttle buckled.

"Dammit, She's called a strike from her ship on our position! HARD TO PORT!" she yelled.

Evra banked to port as the stealth shuttle narrowly missed a turbo laser strike from Revan's orbiting cruiser.

"How the frak did she find us?!" C'bal demanded.

"We're close enough. We're within her range-RIGHT!" Carra yelled.

Evra swerved right as the shuttle dodged another strike, taking out a building right next to them. The shrapnel struck the shuttle hard and almost knocked Evra out of his seat. A console next to the Executioner blew and threw the Mandalorian backward.

"Dammit, Carra, pull the schutta down! We can't take much more of this!" Evra ordered.

"I'm trying! It's hard to focus when you're being fired on by a cruiser!"

"Open the doors!" Tul-Pa yelled.

"Why?" C'bal asked.

"Just open them!"

C'bal sighed and hit the emergency hatch. Tul-Pa brought out her back up rifle and C'bal held onto her as she took aim in the rushing wind.

"Bring the ship higher and get us as close as you can!" Tul-Pa said to Evra.

Evra sped the shuttle as fast as he dared, trying to control the sway of the ship as Revan's orbital shuttle came into view at last.

"Steady! Don't lose it!" Tul-Pa cried. She took aim, trying to judge the perfect moment.

It came. Tul-Pa fired at the right stabilizer, and the back half of the shuttle exploded, and tumbled into the city below hitting speeders in the traffic lanes above the surface as it fell.

"Nice frakking shot!" Evra yelled as he saw the shuttle hit. "Now if only you weren't such a total schutta..."

"You're welcome," Tul-Pa spat.

"Should we tell command?" Carra asked.

"No! I'm not gonna let them stop us! We end this here. Close in for the kill. We're going to do this even if we have to kill the both of them with our bare hands. I'm taking us down," Evra replied angrily.

But just as he started to put the shuttle over a spot to land, Carra rushed to the controls, tossed Evra out of the seat, and sent the ship rocketing upward.

"Carra! What the frak!"

"We have to go up! Revan's got something up her slee-"

Carra never finished. A sonic boom hit them and electrical arcs erupted from everywhere in the interior as the shuttle started to make a sickening dive upside down.

The impact knocked Evra badly around the interior. He felt the left side of his head bang on something sharp and get warm with bits of lancing pain. He barely managed to stay conscious as the shuttle screeched to a halt, slamming into a domed building.

Evra lay still for a moment, almost afraid to move. He tested his arm and legs, and moved his neck around.

The neck was fine, but his arm was broken. Again.

"Ow," was all he managed. He soon mustered up the ability to move after hearing nearby moans of pain.

"Guys? How many of you are alive?" he asked, almost sarcastic.

"It hurts everywhere," C'bal replied, grunting. "I don't get paid enough for this kek."

"That was fun. We should try that again," the Executioner growled, bemused as he shook the debris off of him and helped C'bal up.

"I hate you people," Tul-Pa snarled, her body horribly contorted into a number of odd angles. Evra wondered how she could still be alive.

Withing a moment, the strange woman dissolved into a pool of darkness and reformed, again looking no worse the wear.

"Carra? You alright?" Evra slurred, wincing from the large cut on his lower lip.

"I'll live," she replied, getting out of her seat.

"We should shoot you," Tul-Pa snarled, pulling out a pistol and pointing it at her. "What the hell were you doing?!"

Carra looked at her, expression deadpan, and then popped the emergency hatch of the shuttle.

Evra's eyes widened. "What the..."

The city outside had changed considerably since the crash. Dark blue clouds hung overhead and the buildings had taken on an ashen gray color, soot and dust were everywhere, and red arcs of electricity ran up the sides of the buildings and along the streets.

"An ancient Sith technique: The EMP Wave. Revan hadn't quite mastered it though, and this is what you get for utilizing something you barely understand," Carra explained. "I was trying to get us out of the radius of the wave."

"How come you didn't know she was going to use it until it was too late?" Evra asked.

"It was a little spur of the moment on her part. We really injured her in the crash. She knew we would be on her within minutes and panicked. I'll be surprised if anything electrical is still working," Carra answered before tensing up, her eyes closed.

"She's on the move again. Using the Force to call out to her personal guard for a pick-up. We have to intercept."

"How far are we from her?" C'bal asked.

"About two clicks. The crash drove us farther away from her. She broke her left leg in the crash, but its healing pretty rapidly. And oh boy, is she ever frustrated." Carra's eyes glazed over for a second before coming back to reality. "C'mon, we have to go."

Evra nodded and the team began scrounging for weapons.

"You know, Revan, I had a bad feeling about this the instant we touched down. But I never thought things would go THIS sour," Malak grumbled as he and Saul Karath hauled her by the arms onto their shoulders, dragging themselves away from the burning wreck and crater that had once been their own transport.

"This is too brazen to be a stunt for attention. I...I think they mean to actually kill me here," Revan gasped, voice hoarse.

"What was that...that technique you used?" Saul asked, gazing at the ruined landscape around him.

"A desperation move. I don't have the strength to pull it again," Revan replied, snatching the partially broken mask off her face so she could take in air better.

Her crimson eyes scanned the area. She flicked a few strands of platinum white hair away from her papery white face and took it all in.

_I didn't think it would cause this much damage, _she thought to herself as she gazed at the darkened sky and the electrical arcs jumping from domed building to domed building. The streets were littered with crashed speeders full of moaning passengers who were surely mortally wounded.

"I forgot all about them," she said to herself out loud, suppressing the growing feeling of shame that was unbecoming a Darth of her stature.

She had become the newest Dark Lord in order to protect people like this. When she had found out that there was going to be an invasion, she had known without a doubt that the Republic would fall to the assualt, and had desperately looked for a way to turn the tide in her favor. After finding the Star Forge with Malak, she had made the choice to become the Dark Lord in order to exploit the full power of that fully armed and operational battle station. Becoming the Dark Lord had been a relatively easy choice. She had been itching to pay the ingrates on the Jedi Council back for trying to have her killed on Dxun. They had proven to her how little the Jedi ideal truly meant to them. And to think she had spent all those years trying to make herself the best Jedi possible! Sure, even if they hadn't turned on her, she might have taken longer to make the decision to reform the Sith Order, but it would have happened regardless. Because the enemy wasn't some vast Dark Side organization. The enemy this time was one with ideals very similar to what the Jedi themselves preached.

Light must be opposed by Darkness. It was simply the way of things.

And Revan simply did not trust the Jedi enough to think they would resist the chance to side with this foe.

Revan peered at Malak from the corner of her left eye.

So many sacrifices. Alek to Malak-not a fair trade. Had Revan really had an option, she would have let Alek go, freed him from the need to become her apprentice. But there was a need for men such as he. Revan had twisted his rage over his disfigurement on Dxun into a full blown hatred at everything that was not of the Sith cause. Unexpectedly, while she had indeed gotten an apprentice willing to do whatever she asked to bring the Galaxy under her dominion, she had also at times gotten an apprentice who found himself in the throes of Clinical Depression. He was up to two stims a day to keep himself functional. Saul Karath had gone from one of the most courageous men in the Republic to an angry, embittered traitor who finally decided to just take what he felt he deserved. An ignoble decision, but one Revan supported as it provided her with an underling who had a brilliant military strategy.

As Revan gazed at the wounded in the crashed vehicles littering the city as far as the eye could see, she vowed to make it up to the galaxy somehow.

She did have to wonder just exactly what would happen once she had defeated this enemy and declared the Galaxy at peace. Would there be a Golden Age of the Sith, as Exar Kun had predicted. Just how would it function? How would she run it?

In the very least, it certainly wouldn't look like the horror surrounding her.

But Revan understood that while indeed she would be cheered by more than a few, most would look on her in disgust. The people of the Galaxy are a thankless lot, and would more than likely try and forget all about her once she was dead. She had looked at a poll recently, and had found out that she was more hated than Exar Kun ever was.

She did have to wonder about that. What was it that made her so hated? It wasn't until sometime later that Malak himself had put it bluntly: because, unlike Exar, Revan had a good chance that she was going to succeed in her campaign. Everybody had known Exar was going to get what he deserved even back then.

But with Revan, it was almost as though people seemed to have some inkling that Revan could actually win. And that was what upset them so bad. It had been that conversation with her apprentice that she had truly begun to understand how much most people hated Sith, and the fact that one might actually rule them someday was proving intolerable.

Revan yelped a little as Saul stumbled a bit through the rubble.

"Watch where you're going!" she exclaimed. "I have a broken leg."

"Yes, something you never ceased complaining about while I was pulling you out of the wreck," Saul replied in a shockingly flippant manner. He looked like he hadn't shaved in a few days and his uniform was creased and dirty.

"Watch your tone, Karath. I might take offense to it," Malak warned him.

"You take offense to everything," Saul retorted.

Malak looked at him as though he was insane and then turned away, sighing.

"HEY! THERE SHE IS! I FOUND HER!" someone shouted from across the wrecked street.

Revan turned to the direction the speaker had come from.

A crowd of angry Morenva citizens had gathered torches, knives, and clubs. They were running right for them. Revan could see the murder in the crowds eyes. They didn't give a damn that she was the Dark Lord. Titles counted for nothing at the moment.

"Any ideas, Saul?"

"You're the Dark Lord. You tell me," Saul replied, sweating.

Malak activated his lightsaber as the mob drew closer. The deadly red blade flickered for a few seconds before cutting off.

"You've got to be kidding," Malak said worriedly.


	4. Delta Runner

_"Those who hate most fervently must have once loved deeply; Those who want to deny the world must have once embraced what they now set on fire"_

_-Kurt Tucholsky_

_"They wrote in the old days that it is sweet and fitting to die for one's country. But in modern war, there is nothing sweet and fitting in your dying. You will die like a dog for no good reason."_

_-Earnest Hemmingway._

Darth Revan stared dumbly at the gathering mob that surrounded them, armed with everything from rocks to blaster pistols. They were dirty, injured, and clamoring for her blood.

And that was when Darth Revan saw, clearly, for the first time since she had begun to prosecute her war against the Republic, that the Galaxy really was out to get her.

She coughed a little from the smoke gathering around the crash site. Malak angrily had his hands raised, lightning arcing between his fingertips, daring the onlookers to charge so he could cut them down like so much cattle.

Darth Revan decided to try and reason with them before it turned violent.

"I would not do this were I you. I am a Sith Lord. I am more powerful than you could possibly imagine."

Someone from the horde of injured men and women wasn't fooled. "For someone who is more powerful than we could possibly imagine, it sure looks an awful lot like you're nursing a broken leg," a woman's voice called out.

Malak was looking around but he seemed much more agitated than normal. Likely for the same reason that cold tension was creeping up Revan's spine.

Fear has always been a tool of the Sith. They use it to keep allies close and enemies far away. It ensures control as well as motivation from underlings.

But fear is a double edged sword. The aura of fear a Sith Lord maintains is often much more trouble than it is worth, and requires care.

And as anyone could have told her, had she thought to take this into account, it is very hard to be afraid of someone who has just come away from a shuttle crash held up by her Admiral and being protected by her apprentice, and keeping off a broken leg.

"You Sith always screw everything up!" another citizen shouted. "Why can't you figure out the Galaxy doesn't need you?! We were doing just fine! All you had to do was fight the Mandalorians. That was all we wanted!"

"Frakked up Jedi on a power trip!" another man shouted.

"Freak!"

"Monster!"

"I lost my husband in the turbo laser attack. How am I gonna pay for his funeral?!"

"You hit a school, you schutta!"

"Down with the Sith! DOWN WITH THE SITH!" the multitude began to shout.

"Get BACK!" Darth Revan demanded. "I don't want any of you dead, but if you press the issue, you will suffer the consequences."

"We ain't afraid of you schutta! You already bombed our city. What more can you take away?"

An elderly man in a tattered yellow construction uniform came forward and threw a rock with almost perfect aim straight at the Dark Lord's face.

Revan stopped it easily using the Force, flinging it away harmlessly.

But she had been so focused on THAT rock that she didn't notice the other two thrown.

The first struck her directly on the nose, the second hit her chin, clipping Saul also.

Darth Revan felt herself hitting the ground, blinded by pain as the enraged crowd charged.

No one is afraid of me, she lamented. No one respects me.

"We lost a good deal of our ammo, so remember to conserve your shots," Evra ordered, inspecting his carbine and throwing it away after he realized it had a bent barrel. Thing was unmarked anyway, no one would be able to trace it.

"Are you sure we shouldn't just cut our losses and call for an extract?" Tul-Pa asked cynically.

"I am not leaving without Darth Revan dead. I'll chase her to the ends of of this Force-forsaken planet if I have to," Evra replied, glaring.

"Don't be surprised if command wants to shoot us when we get back," C'bal interjected soberly as he strapped on a blaster proof vest.

The comlink on Evra's belt started to crackle.

Puppet master to Bravo Two Primary, Puppet master to Bravo Two Primary, authentication Rodeo-Alpha-Spoiler. Come in, over," Bluefin's voice ordered.

Evra pulled it out, steeling himself.

"This is Primary. Go ahead."

"Primary, what the HELL were you thinking?!" Bluefin demanded.

"We are within striking distance of Delta Runner! We can catch up to her! We were going to finish her off!"

"It's too risky. The mission was blown! Return to base!"

"We can't. Our shuttle is gone," Evra replied grimly, his bad eye starting to hurt again.

"Then prepare for immediate evac-wait a minute, what the-Primary, stand by, ship sensors are picking up something..."

"What?"

"Too hot on the infrared to be normal tangos...aw hell, Primary, listen up. Ships sensors have detected Sith Stalkers in your immediate vicinity. Get the hell out of there."

"How many?"

"Too many."

"How many is too many?"

"Too many as in you are dead if you are not out of there in the next five minutes."

"Kek," Evra swore. He spotted a nearby bronzed domed office building, wrecked like the rest of the city.

"Call in when you have a evac site. Primary out."

"Plans changed?" the Executioner asked, lifting his bulky repeater.

"No but the approach has. Let's go before we have a run in with those damn freaks Revan likes to use so much."

The team immediately proceeded to the ruined office building.

"I don't understand why we don't just cut our losses and run," Tul-Pa said snappishly as she trudged through the rubble.

"Because in the office building, I can gain higher ground and possibly spot Revan. And then you take her out with a shot to the head," Evra answered.

"We may not even have to," Carra chimed in with a pleased smirk. "Revan has been injured very badly. Saul and Malak are trying to fight off an angry mob. They are not doing well."

"I'm not going to risk her getting away based on mob luck."

"Shhh," C'bal hissed. "Do you hear that?"

Evra's ears were alert for the sound. It was a combat shuttle, closing fast.

"Get to the building, now!" Evra barked.

The group barely had made it in past the broken entrance when the boxy, winged steel grey Sith combat shuttle descended on their crash site along with four others.

Evra peaked out as the dreaded Sith Stalkers flooded out of the shuttles, going over the wreckage. Stalkers were those minions of the Dark Lord that had undergone cybernetic enhancement that had reshaped them into a feared sect of assassins that answered only to Revan. The dim light bounced off of their shiny armored helmets, the t-bar shaped visor hiding the suite of sensors that had replaced their eyes, the skin on their arms a ghastly white with dead blue veins sticking out on their arms. the black, leather armor they wore had been treated with cortosis and were covered by a ragged black cloth in the front, their ribs protected by strips of dull grey armor. And everyone of them had a light saber.

"How many do you see?" C'bal asked.

"Too many. Head up the stairs. Stay out of sight," Evra whispered.

The group headed for the second level of the building. The rubble on the stair case made for tough walking, and in some cases they had to use the Force to leap over gaps. C'bal and Carra coughed at the dust in the air.

The second level was little more than computer terminals and office cubicles. The terminals were dead. The windows overlooking the streets below were blown in.

The team moved low through the office space, trying to ignore the scattered papers and overturned desks.

Evra sensed the shuttle almost too late. The combat shuttle stopped close by the building and more Sith Stalkers leaped out of it into the building, landing on broken glass. Evra heard the click of Sith carbine rifles with special flak guns under slung on the barrel. The shuttle departed.

Evra took cover in an office cubicle, the others did likewise. Tul-Pa darted behind a desk just as a Stalker turned his head the other way.

Evra started to sweat. He clutched his blaster pistol as the beads of sweat began to run down his bald head. He didn't dare peak out. There had to be at least ten. Any shooting would draw the attention of the others outside.

A Stalker slowly proceeded to the area he was hiding in. Evra tensed, ready, trying to control his fear.

The Stalker paused as a signal came in on his com-link. He pulled it out, his clawed fingers holding the device in an awkward manner.

"All Sith personnel, this is Colonel Rand! Repeat! This is Colonel Rand! Authorization Echo-Two-Zero! Darth Revan has come under heavy fire and has been swarmed by a civilian mob. You are to rescue her immediately!"

The Stalkers all reacted at once, in unison. One Stalker turned to the rest, a synthetic bass tone passing for his voice.

"Leave a three man team to secure the area. The rest of us must assist our Lord."

Three Stalkers nodded and stayed behind while the rest leapt out the windows effortlessly.

The three immediately proceeded to continue their search, blasters aimed with twitchy reflexes. They all stopped however, each coughing violently.

Carra came out of hiding, her right hand in the all too familiar act of a Force grip. She killed two, breaking their necks, each snap unleashing a hiss of electrical wiring being cut. The third she suffocated, leaving him barely alive, but unconscious.

"C'bal, work your magic," Evra instructed.

C'bal nodded and gently turned the Sith onto his stomach.

C'bal's seemingly spindly fingers actually turned out to be incredibly strong as he split open the back of the helmet, his victim jerking as he plunged two thumbs into the base of the skull and wrenching upward. Evra turned away in disgust as he heard C'bal eating.

When he turned around, he saw C'bal licking the blood off his fingers. He grabbed the Sith's com link and spoke, in perfect mimicry of that synthetic tone: "Command, this is Stalker Five-Five-Sixer. Requesting shuttle extraction at these coordinates..."

The Sith Combat shuttle landed outside the office building as planned and a lone Stalker marched out of it.

A pair of Sith Commandos waited in the shuttle gesturing for him, their silver and black armor dusty and dirty from the rubble and smog filling the air. Their face plates reflecting the Stalker's visage.

Instead of simply coming onto the shuttle, the Stalker pulled out a pistol and shot both of them in the face and then leapt aboard, holding a pistol to the Sith pilot's head and pulling the trigger. The pilot's brains splattered onto the view port next to him.

Evra and the rest of his team came out of hiding as the "Stalker" morphed back into C'bal, who was dragging the pilot's body out of the shuttle and throwing it to the dirt.

"Nice job."

"I aim to please," C'bal replied in his oily voice. "Come. We do not have much in the way of time."

Evra climbed into the darkened cockpit and familiarized himself with the controls. Lifting the shuttle off, they proceeded to the Dark Lord's crash site.

Two men tackled Darth Malak to the ground, wrenching his light saber away as the crowd swarmed him and Saul finally.

He roared, Force pushing the entire group away and began firing lightning into the crowd.

But the mob was undeterred. The hail of rocks and poorly aimed blaster shots came belatedly his way still and one struck him on the bridge of the nose. Saul had been overwhelmed and the mob was now beating him to a pulp. Revan was not doing much better, a crowd gathered over her and stoning her.

That all changed with turbo laser fire.

Three Sith combat shuttles descended, firing brazenly into the crowd.

The shuttle's side doors opened and a squad of troops and Stalkers descended on the mob like locusts, firing indiscriminately, until the entire mob had been gunned down.

A man with brown hair and and a young face came out of the Sith party, wearing a black jumpsuit and a blaster-proof vest with a black beret. His normally lightly tanned skin dirtied by the surrounding dust, as well as graying his goatee.

"Lord Revan? Are you all right?!" he called out, pulling the dead bodies off of her.

Darth Revan looked up at Colonel Atton Rand with a swollen eye.

"About time."

"It took me awhile to get the command to send down a team. Communications on the ship were disrupted by that strange EMP wave that hit the city," Atton explained. "Sorry it took so long."

Atton lifted her up and the commandos helped Saul and Malak to their feet as well.

"We have to get out of here. Reports indicate that Morenva is preparing their response cruisers to attack your flagship."

"So...negotiations have failed."

"Yeah. Whoever screwed us, they did it good. We'll never get their resources without an invasion now," Saul choked out, coughing.

"So be it," Revan sighed. "I've had enough of this place. Let's get the hell out of here."

Atton helped her aboard the shuttle. After making sure she was secure, the shuttle lifted off.

"Evra, we're too late. they extracted her," Carra said dejectedly.

"No, we can still catch her!"

"We're only one shuttle. She has two backing her up. We have to leave," Carra insisted. "We have to retreat."

Evra thought about his odds a moment before changing his heading.

"We'll get her next time," Executioner spoke. "We have shown her fear. She will make mistakes now."

"That is, if Colonel Bluefin allows us another go," Tul-Pa snorted.

Evra pulled out his com-link "Bravo Two Primary to Puppet master."

"Puppet master, go ahead."

"Mission failed, returning to base."

The Sith shuttle docked in a clandestine manner with the _B'lerofon. _As soon as Evra and his team were aboard the cruiser, the shuttle was detached and destroyed by a turbo laser strike.

Bluefin was waiting, arms crossed, seemingly guarding the exit of the docking bay.

"You had better have a damn good explanation for not following orders, Evra. A damn good one!"

"She was within our grasp, sir! She was so close we could taste it!"

"I gave you a direct order to retreat!"

"With all due respect, you screwed our mission to begin with! What the hell was that down there, giving us an extra target!? We could have done some serious damage today!"

"That wasn't my call, Evra. The order came straight from the Chancellor himself! He felt we could do more damage if we removed Morenva's president and installed someone loyal to us!"

"Then tell the damn Chancellor to stay the hell out of our business! We were almost killed down there! And now we've lost our chance to kill Revan!" Evra removed his pistol and threw it at the door in frustration.

"You're out of line Evra! Stand down. We'll get another shot. There is always another shot!" Bluefin barked. "You're confined to quarters until further notice. The rest of you, dismissed."

Evra angrily brushed past the Colonel as he pulled out his com-link. "Pilot, get us the hell out of here. On the double."

Evra was meditating on his failure when he felt the ship go to hyperspace.

So close! They had been so close, he raged, the Sith training getting the better of him. How were they going to find such a golden chance again?!

He felt Carra's presence enter his sparse quarters, sitting on his bed.

"We were so close today. We could have permanently ended the threat she represented," Evra grumbled.

"It just wasn't our day, Evra. You don't like to give up, do you?"

"No," came the reply.

"To be honest, I don't either. But how much of your stubborn determination was the result of the Sith training?"

Evra turned around. "What do you mean?"

"Is it possible perhaps-if only a little-that Sith ambition got the better of you?"

Evra considered the possibility. He HAD been a little more unreasonable than normal when it came to Darth Revan, and his impatience HAD nearly gotten them killed in the EMP wave.

"Back at that cave of wolves, giving anything less than your absolute best meant your demise or a knife to your back," he replied. "It gets to you after a while."

Carra folded her arms. "There is an easy way to do things and then there is the right way to do them. I want Revan dead, but not if it gets you or the rest killed in the process. The Sith teachings-they win you a battle, but can ultimately cost you a war. Why do you think they always end up getting decimated in the end?"

"Why do you want Revan dead?"

Carra sighed. "That...is a very complicated answer. I am...bonded to Revan, as C'bal suggests, but the bond is one way. And it never shuts off. I'm always in the know over what she is thinking or doing every second."

Evra stood up and turned around fully, staring at her in surprise. "That's awful. How do you deal with it?"

"Anti-psychotics. Tranquilizers. None of them have names I can pronounce correctly, and they leave me as sick as a kath hound afterward. And...they're failing."

Evra narrowed his eyebrows. "How much time do you have before they stop working?"

"A doctor I consulted gave me a six month time frame. Believe me, I understand your need for haste."

"So if you know everything she knows, does that mean you know all her skills?"

"Yes."

Evra snorted in amazement. "No wonder you're perfect for taking her down. You have her entire playbook memorized."

"I uh, haven't told Bluefin that aspect of my abilities. I don't want to become the key to the war effort. So I would like it if you didn't say anything."

Evra thought a moment before nodding. The another question came to him.

"How did you become bonded to Revan in the first place?"

Carra glowered. "As I said. It is a very complicated answer."

Evra took the hint. "Well, what is Darth Revan thinking right now?"

Carra closed her eyes.

"We gave her a good scare today. I think now she knows she isn't going to run roughshod over the galaxy without fighting for every inch."

"That so? Good. She's been handing us our ass in almost every conflict so far."

"She's also going to be much harder to get to. But we can stop her, IF we're patient," Carra replied gently. "Remember what I said. There is an easy way to do things, and then there is the right way."

"Do you hate her?" Evra asked.

Carra frowned, her jaw working.

"The bond wasn't always this bad you know. There was a time when it was almost comforting peaking into her head. But after that attempt on her life during the Dxun offensive-she changed. She thinks she's doing the right thing, but it is just as much about revenge as it is about a secure galaxy. You'd be amazed at how ugly her psyche has gotten. And yet-"

"What?"

"There-are hints of the woman she could have been. She's really tried to be a good mother. And she's tried to make life as bearable as possible for her apprentice. War twisted her. Now every thought is under the delusion she's making the Galaxy a better place. And the darkest pit of her heart is nothing but anger and revenge on the Jedi she thinks betrayed her. It is rather sad, in a way. Do I hate her? A little. You'd be crazy to like her," Carra replied. "But this need I have to kill her? It isn't personal. It is a matter of survival. She had her chance to make the right choices in life. She threw them away. I still have a life. I have a family to go back to. My son just turned six. His birthday is next week and I'm going to miss it because Revan made me miss it. Without the medicine, sometimes I can't make the distinction between me and Revan. It is what drove me away from my home."

"Now you're making sense. So if we kill her, you're free?"

"I'll still have a lifetime of her and my experiences, but the flood in my head will finally stop, yes."

"We better get lucky real damn soon, then."

"We will. Trust in the Force. We'll get her. Good night. I hope Bluefin doesn't stay mad at you too long."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Evra smiled.

Carra nodded, smiling back and once again, Evra both drawn in and deeply unsettled by how perfect her beauty was.

Carra walked out of the room and Evra went back to the floor to meditate.

The Hand of Dark, Revan's flagship.

With enough hours of meditation, Revan's injuries had finally healed enough to make her presentable to her crew.

Still, she was not yet ready to face them. What would she say to them? To the media? That she had been drawn into a trap that had nearly gotten her killed by sniper fire, that the most powerful Sith since Exar Kun had been nearly murdered and torn apart by an angry mob? That the galaxy had shown her it wasn't afraid of the Sith?

What could she say to them?

Revan lay in the bed, her armor damaged and dirty and being repaired by an underling. She was naked, her almost paper-white skin still showing the bruises of the rocks the mob had thrown at her. The swelling in her right eye had faded, and her ribs no longer hurt from the kicks she had received at the hands of a woman screaming that she had lost her baby in a speeder crash thanks to her.

Revan was still amazed that she had been drawn into that desperate act. Even she hadn't known what the EMP wave would do on that scale. She vowed never to use it again. Too dangerous, like the Thought Bomb.

Revan's stomach also lurched at the memory of all those men and women being gunned down in cold blood by her troops. Did that stuff happen among her Sith on a daily basis? One of these days she would have to do a study on the amount of sentient rights abuses her soldiers were committing. Revan had the sick feeling the number of soldiers performing such acts regularly was too many.

Revan heard the door chime to her quarters-her lavish, lavish quarters-and immediately stood up and threw on a black bath-robe that was hanging on a coat rack nearby. Tying it off, she unlocked the door to her quarters.

Malak walked in, impatience and rage smothering his aura. "Where is he?"

"Where is who?" Revan asked, annoyed already.

"Our son! Where is our son!?" Malak demanded. "I just called your servants back on Serreno. They have been looking for him all day and they haven't found him!"

"I warned you this could happen. He doesn't know how to deal with what he saw."

"Because YOU won't let me explain to him!" Malak raged. "You're coddling him!"

"What, do you want to do, bring our son to work or something!? Jamming a vibrorod into some poor bastard's stomach is not my idea of a fun day with the family!"

"Because you won't let me provide context!"

"How do you provide context to torture designed to break someone and make them your servant?"

"By explaining what we do it for?"

"He's not going to buy into it! He's too young! And you know his tendency to see in black and white. He gets it from you."

Malak scowled. "Are you saying this is my fault?!"

"Well...yes! You dragged that Jedi to the wine cellar-wine we both drink by the way-and you worked him over. I don't even remember what we were trying to do."

"He had information on Republic fleet movements. Getting the information from him was necessary! How was I supposed to know the kid would be down there?"

"You know he likes to wander! We've caught him everywhere from the castle kitchen to the attic!"

"We've always told him not to go into the wine celler!"

"You know he doesn't follow those kinds of orders!"

"Oh, go ahead, blame me, that's what you always do anyway!" Malak replied. "That's what you always do."

"Maybe I wouldn't if you didn't keep pulling stupid crap like Telos!"

Malak somehow managed a sigh with his jaw prosthetic. "This again...you always go back to this..."

"You bombed a planet back to the stone age. It wasn't even a high value target!"

"How else was I supposed to know that Saul Karath wasn't a plant?!"

"You could have given him to one of my specialists," Revan huffed, walking to her durasteel workdesk and pouring herself a brandy. She downed it in one gulp. The she poured another and downed that in a gulp as well.

"Those brain doctors couldn't figure out anything if they tried. My way was easier. So maybe I killed a lot of people. Maybe I killed a frak load of people, It isn't like we haven't done it before, and in both cases it was wartime."

"There is the easy way and then there is the right way," Revan replied. "You chose the easy way, just like Valia."

"As I recall, you liked it when Valia took the easy way. Saved you a lot of time."

"That was against Mandalorians. This is a war against the whole galaxy, and those tactics no longer work. We have to negotiate. We have to make deals, not just bomb bomb bomb, like you world prefer!" Revan shouted. "I've had enough. Get out."

"I sleep here too!"

"Then find a couch!" Revan Force pushed him out into the hall and with a flick of her hand slammed the large automatic door shut.

Revan sat on the bed and rubbed her eyes.


	5. Foxtrot Uniform

_"You can discover what your enemies fear most by observing the means he uses to frighten you."_

_-Eric Hoffer_

_"Never interrupt your enemy when he is making a mistake."_

_-Napoleon Bonaparte_

One week after Morenva disaster.

"Okay team, gather round. I got a new mission for you," Colonel Bluefin barked as the holo-display behind him lit up. He coughed hard as he uploaded the data.

Evra now sported a white eye patch over his right eye. He would have gotten a cybernetic one, but the recovery time after having that kind of surgery was simply too long.

The entire team was in the briefing room aboard the B'lerofon, each seated around the oval cherry wood table as Bluefin gave the specifics.

"This one's real special, team. One of our contacts in the Jal-Shey gave us a heads up on an operation they were pulling. I called and asked if they could let us have a crack at it. They agreed. We're going after Jedi Hunters. And this guy," Bluefin added, an image appearing from the holoprojector of a young man with a strong face and brown hair and a goatee. His skin was slightly tanned. "Is our target."

"You're kidding," Evra said.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Colonel Atton Rand, Darth Revan's personal assassin, handpicked after Valia Renn left Revan's service to serve as her replacement. This guy's hunted down and killed more Jedi than most of his light saber wielding peers. Colonel Rand is as deadly as they come. He's remorseless, hates Jedi, and never hesitates to pull the trigger. We're going to capture him."

"And do what? We'd be better just offing the bastard," the Executioner growled.

"Colonel Rand was captured last month by the Jal-Shey. His was given food during his imprisonment that spread a non-lethal radioactive chemical across his body. Thing is, it can only be detected by a specific kind of scanner the Jal-Shey developed. One we don't yet know how to duplicate."

"Why go to all the trouble?"

"During his initial imprisonment, Atton tried to escape multiple times, they eventually gave him the chemical just to keep tabs on him. But they weren't able to get anything out of him, even with their own mind doctors working him over. That's where we come in. We've promised to relay whatever intelligence we get from him to the Jal-Shey. That's why they included us."

"If the Jal-Shey couldn't get anything out of him, how are we supposed to?" Tul-Pa asked.

"We have our ways. And Atton...is a special case."

"What do you mean?" Evra asked, already suspicious.

"You let me worry about that, Evra," Bluefin answered curtly. "This is the ruse; The Jedi Order has sent a couple of representatives to the Althiri sector to open up negotiations for intelligence on the Sith in that sector. They will be traveling aboard a nondescript cargo freighter called the _Lucas. _Except there are no Jedi. The only thing waiting for Atton and his goons are a team of Jal-Shey with itchy trigger fingers and one of their specialists, and man by the name of Jinn. He's our contact. Here's the layout of the freighter, I expect you all to memorize it by the time we reach the Althiri sector. Atton and his goons will already be aboard. You're to cut them off from their escape routes while the Jal-Shey bring him down. And Evra," Bluefin added as he passed out the datapads containing the ships blueprints, "I don't think I should have to remind you of this, but no flying off the handle on this one. Something goes wrong, you retreat and wait for further instructions this time."

"Understood, Colonel," Evra replied, face deadpan. He was not going to screw this mission up even if it got him killed. There was no more room for failure.

"Okay, if that's all, you have some drills to run. Dismissed," Bluefin ordered. His gaze hung on Evra a half second longer as though to emphasize to Evra that He wouldn't tolerate him violating protocol again.

Seventeen hours later, Althiri sector.

The Republic stealth shuttle sped silently through the blackness of the stars as the B'lerofon slipped back into hyperspace. Everyone was wearing a envirosuit in case they had to go extra-vehicular. These weren't the bulky ones offered to civilian markets. These were worn as heavy armor, with an oxygen canister attached to the back. The spherical face plates were tinted, thus concealing their features. They fit well, and they didn't have any odd or sharp angles on them. The suits also had air conditioning, which was a blessing for such heavy gear. They had also been painted black to reduce visibility.

"Check your weapons, pay attention to those corners," Evra instructed, inspecting his light saber. He didn't know why, but he had a bad feeling about this mission.

The Freighter soon came into view. It looked like it was meant for civilian transport, and had a sleek, tubular shape with a boxy undercarriage and wide, wing like engines in the back. The hull was a dull rusty red and obviously hadn't been fussed over in some time. The running lights in the ship's front bridge were dark.

"Be careful, these guys are good," C'bal noted. "I've heard stories of these guys that would make your skin crawl."

"They probably aren't as much of a nuisance as you are, Adek," Tul-Pa.

"Watch it, Tul-Pa," C'bal growled. "That skimpy outfit you whore around in will only make me like you so much."

"Cut the chatter," Evra barked.

"Freak," Tul-Pa said anyway.

"You're one to talk," C'bal shot back.

"I said cut the chatter!" Evra ordered. "You want me to put the both of you in the stockade when we get back?!"

"Just try and slap the cuffs on me, baldy," Tul-Pa sneered.

Evra glared at her but turned back to inspect his rifle.

"We're almost there," the Executioner announced as he piloted the ship to the docking port. "May we kill painfully today."

Evra ignored the burly Mandalorian's idea of a prayer and proceeded to activate the docking clamps, slowly depressurizing the shuttle as they docked. The docking umbilical sealed over the shuttle hatch and the team proceeded through zero gravity into the freighter.

It was dark inside, but Evra could already make out the tell tale carbon scouring on the walls of the inside. Blaster fire. He spotted a corpse and rolled it over. The blaster shots had taken the man's face off, but the green and silver armored robes gave away his allegiance.

"A member of the Jal-Shey fire team," Evra grimaced. "Guess Atton and his boys are doing better than we thought."

"He IS Darth Revan's personal assassin. She selected him for the very qualities she had seen in General Valia Renn during the wars: an effective and ruthless killing machine," Carra added. "She couldn't have picked a better replacement. I feel his taint on this man's corpse."

"You wouldn't happen to 'feel' where he is, would you Blondie?" Tul-Pa asked.

"No, unfortunately."

"Then shut up unless you have something useful to say."

"Like you've contributed anything useful so far," the Executioner muttered in contempt.

"What was that? Your helmet must be on too tightly, bucket head."

"At least I can claim to actually wear something decent off duty, you frakking schutta."

"Enough," Evra ordered. "One more word, Tul-Pa and I'm ordering you back to the shuttle."

Tul-Pa tried to say something else but Evra cut her off. "Not another word," he growled.

"About time," the Executioner laughed.

"Where are we, C'bal?"

"According to the blueprints, we're in the security and customs section. The initial plan was to cut Atton and his team off in engineering," C'bal answered. "But I'm starting to think something about that plan might have gotten spaced," C'bal answered uneasily, his pool-of-black eyes darting around for any signs of threat. It was clear he hated enclosed spaces. Evra could feel him suppress the shiver that wanted to run up his spine. Evra supposed that spending the first half of one's life in a cell as a lab animal did that. He could see C'bal's fingers twitch.

"You'd be right," called out an old, gruff, yet articulate voice.

Evra spun around, pointing his rifle at a man whose head was concealed in a gas mask, the goggles on it tinted green and the large, tube filter attached to the left side of the mask. He wore a brown leather uniform with matching gloves. A light saber was strapped to his leg and a Aratech scoped blaster rifle, model QG was slung over his back, the stock and frame of the weapon being made of wood. The rest of the team aimed their weapons at him.

"Identify yourself!" Evra barked.

"A long long time ago, in a galaxy far away..." the man began.

"Naboo was under an attack," Evra said, finishing the identification phrase. He lowered his weapon. "You must be Jinn."

"Yeah, I must be Jinn," Jinn replied. "The plan went to hell when Atton arrived. We blew up his shuttle but he's managed to kill my whole team. I've picked off some of his men, but I'd say there's ten left. He's trying to get access to communications, but I've locked down the bridge. He's probably going to try and use explosives to make his way onto the bridge."

"We can cut power to the bridge by making our way to maintenance in the engineering section," C'bal suggested.

"He's got some of his men there. They've also set up ambush points along the way," Jinn added.

"We got no choice. We'll deal with the threat as it presents itself," Evra replied grimly. "I'll take point."

Jin and the team headed out passing through the metal detectors which lit up as they exited the cramped security section.

The corridors of the ship were as cramped as their entry point, barely allowing enough width for two people to walk side by side. The corridors were broken up in their monotonous patterns by the occasional alcove leading to another section of the ship.

A buzzing over the ship intercom caught everyone's attention.

"Heh. More reinforcements eh? That's okay. I expected that. I have to say, you people went out of your way to try and kill me and my boys. Didn't exactly turn out like you planned, did it?" the voice of Atton Rand asked all over the ship, the echo of his voice carrying. "I really don't understand your resistance to Lord Revan's vision, but then again, I'm not really paid to am I? You Jal-Shey threw away a golden opportunity to shape the future of the galaxy. I'm starting to dislike Jal-Shey almost as much as I dislike Jedi."

Jinn found himself unable to stay silent. He reached for a nearby intercom that connected to the bridge. Evra let him. If Rand was using the PA system, chances were that he had them pegged.

"Maybe you dislike us because we aren't the idiots the Jedi are and we actually make you earn your pay, you piece of kek," Jinn spat in disgust.

"You call what happened here making me earn my pay? This sort of thing is a walk to the beach for me. Allow me to demonstrate."

Evra and the team felt themselves lifting upward. Rand had turned off the gravity in their section. He had full control of the ship. The whole squad swore in surprise as they went weightless.

Evra reached for his belt and turned on the magnetic tractors in his boots. He was quickly back on the ground, careful to keep both feet planted. The others, Jinn included, activated theirs and everyone's feet was back on the ground once more.

"I don't even know why you bothered. I've signaled for backup and an interdictor will be here in less than half an hour. You have no chance. Surrender, and I promise not to go as hard on you as I normally would."

Everyone snorted at the offer. They had all read his profile. There would be no mercy if any of them laid down their arms. "No deal," Jinn spoke up.

"So you wanna do this the hard way, huh? Fine. No skin off my bones. Maybe off yours though..."

The pair of Sith Commandos popped out from a hiding space in the floor and sprayed blaster bolts in their general direction. Evra activated his red light saber and started frantically deflecting shots as best as his heavy space suit would allow. The Executioner brought up his Mandalorian heavy repeater and opened fire.

The Sith screamed as the bolts tore into them. Gore was everywhere, floating in zero gravity by the time the Executioner took his finger off the trigger.

"Finally earned my bloody pay this week," the Executioner laughed.

"Ugh. Mandalorians. I'd know that filthy Concord Dawn accent anywhere," Atton growled over the intercom. "We fought a war to stop your kind for enslaving the Galaxy and here you Jal-Shey are, hiring them!"

"Filthy? I'll show you filthy. Evra, tell me I can cut something large and valuable out of this guy's body when we catch him," the Executioner requested as politely as he could.

"No. We need him intact."

"Humph. You're no fun."

Evra's helmet com-link suddenly buzzed.

"Puppet master to Bravo Two Primary, Authorization Whiskey Tango Foxtrot. Come in, over."

"This is Bravo Two Primary. Go ahead, Puppet master."

"Primary, long range ship scanners have detected a Sith Interdictor entering the system, closing on your position rapidly. You have twenty minutes, tops. Over."

"Roger that. We'll be out of here by then. Primary out," Evra replied. He stared at the others. "Hustle, people! The Sith are going to be all over us in twenty minutes!"

"Our best bet is to head to engineering. Cut off his power supply, and his life support," Jinn said. "Follow me."

The crew made their way to engineering as quickly as they could with the cramped quarters. Evra checked his wrist chrono. Fifteen minutes left. Not good. Reaching the automatic door, He signaled for a halt.

Jinn pulled out some explosive charges and fixed them to the lock.

"Ready? Three...two..." Evra counted down.

The team tensed, readying their rifles.

"One...blow it."

Jinn pressed the detonator charge.

The charge blew and the door was forced open.

A sharp hail of blaster fire made everyone take what cover they could. Evra blind fired from a a tiny gap between the door terminal and the corridor alcove.

Tul-Pa was however, too exposed. The storm of blaster fire hit her in full force. The armor and the body underneath it practically exploded from the shots, sending pools of black ooze flying every which way. "Kek!" C'bal swore when he saw this. It meant he couldn't ogle her any longer.

Carra pulled out her light saber and started deflecting blaster shots. But there were so many coming her way she couldn't even see who was firing. The deadly red energy bolts nicked her spacesuit armor, but otherwise did little damage.

"Out of the way!" Jinn yelled, pulling out his rifle. "OUT OF THE WAY!"

Carra pulled back just as Jinn fired two consecutive shots.

The drum like turrets that had been firing relentlessly at them exploded.

"Nice save," Evra said to Jinn. "Too bad about Tul-Pa, though..." He stared at the oozing remains of Tul-Pa as they floated about in zero gravity.

"Even she couldn't survive getting blasted apart," the Executioner snickered. "Schutta. I'm glad she's dead."

Much to everyone's surprise, however, the floating bubbles of darkness suddenly shivered and then flew into the seams of the floor plating beneath them.

Curious, Evra stared as he felt a vibration underneath his feet that moved into the engineering room. He peered inside and some of the floor panels burst open, and out came three Sith Commando's, impaled on large dark spikes which soon sheared the bodies into pieces and then twisted and reshaped themselves into Tul-Pa's smirking face and scantily clad body in leather hides.

"You were saying?" she asked, that cold, predatory smirk once more on her face.

"Kek, spoke to soon," the Mandalorian added. "Ah, well, you're bound to run out of luck eventually. Until then, welcome back!"

"You will have to explain how you pull that off one of these days," Evra said, thoroughly uneasy about Tul-Pa's abilities once more.

"When I feel like it," she replied haughtily.

"That was just creepy," the Executioner mumbled.

"Huh, so you have a few tricks up your sleeve. So do I," Atton's voice blared over the intercom.

The wall next to the engine observation window exploded, opening the hull up to empty space.

Before Evra could react, he found himself flying to the open hole. His heart pounded at the thought of dying alone in space-

-and then yelped as the big, burly hand of the Executioner wrapped around his ankle.

"HOLD ON!" the Mandalorian yelled. "Pull me, ya bloody nitwits, PULL!"

Jinn, C'bal, and Tul-Pa grabbed the Mandalorian and helped pull him back even further. Carra used the Force to anchor them back to the floor as best she could until the decompression was complete.

Evra found himself floating again. He gestured to the Executioner who nodded, putting his feet back on the floor so the magnetic tractors could take effect.

"That was too close," Jinn breathed.

"Gee, ya think?!" Carra said.

Evra made his way to the power distribution console. He tried a few minor hacking attempts only to find that the terminal wasn't responding.

"He's locked us out," Evra grimaced.

Tul-Pa, who seemed to be unaffected by the complete lack of oxygen, wordlessly brushed past Evra and closed her eyes.

Her figure turned a complete obsidian black losing it's shape as she "seeped" into the computer console.

"Okay, what the hell is she?" Jinn asked.

"Buddy, this is Force-Sensitive Black-Ops. if you're still asking that question when you encounter a freak of nature, you need to find another job," C'bal croaked, both fascinated and repulsed in one breath by his team-mate.

"She's a witch. We should burn her. I know, I'll bring the wood!" the Mandalorian suggested in a shockingly helpful tone.

"Told you she wasn't what she seemed," Carra added. "Damned if she isn't useful, though..."

The terminal's firewalls suddenly disappeared and Evra was typing away furiously at the console. He shut down all the life support across the ship and powered down everything. The he set the engines to self destruct. The explosion would crack the ship in half in less than nine minutes.

"This outta get the bastard's attention. And I got the perfect approach to him," Evra said with a smile as the black oily substance that had infected the computer leaked out of it and reformed into Tul-Pa. "We're going on a space walk."

"This is crazy, this is crazy, this is crazy..." C'bal whispered. "You guys do know the odds of you dying on a mission in space increase significantly if you are executing it on the outside of a ship

"Shut your trap C'bal. You're killin' my adrenaline high," the Executioner laughed.

"Never tell me the odds," Evra ordered.

"Ignorance is bliss, I guess," C'bal replied, trying to steady his heart.

Evra found himself behind Tul-Pa, who was adhering her bare feet to the hull with Force energy, her tractor boots having malfunctioned due to her space-suit's destruction. Not that it mattered. She actively guarded with her light saber-lance as she advanced. He was occasionally distracted in his advance by paying too much attention to her long, dark-skinned legs, but he shook himself from the spell she always seemed to portray.

"He'll have no choice but to send his men to the engine room to turn it back on. And since this is the quickest way with all the power to the doors cut, we should be seeing them right about..." Jinn trailed off, his leather armor apparently modified for space walks as well.

They appeared over the curvature of the ship. Five armored Sith Commandos outfitted for EV, carrying heavy repeaters.

They opened fire the instant they caught sight of Evra's team. There was nowhere to dodge, and no way to move about easily. The red blade of Tul-Pa's lance shot out and she was deflecting shots as quickly as she could. But they were all sitting gizka and they didn't have time to bounce shot's off of their light sabers all day.

Carra erected a Force bubble around the team. "Go!" She yelled.

Evra advanced, firing. Jinn aimed for their heads only to find the Commando's were energy shielded. His shot's bounced off harmlessly.

The next few seconds consisted of Evra's team advancing agonizingly slow under the aegis of Carra's power and driving the Commandos slowly back to their insertion point.

One Commando fell, screaming as a bolt of Force lightning from C'bal overwhelmed his shielding and cooked him alive in his armor.

Another two fell as the Executioner Force gripped the both of them and flung them out into the reaches of space, screaming.

It was just two left. Tul-Pa grinned evilly and overwhelmed the final two, slicing them both in two at the same time. The top halves detached and floated off, while the lower stayed anchored to the hull thanks to the tractor boots.

"Well, that was easy," Jinn breathed.

He was eating his words when a Sith Interdictor jumped out of hyperspace directly over the freighter.

"Aw kek," the Executioner said. "You know, you don't really think about it all that much, but those things are BIG when you see them up close."

"Dammit, they're early!" Evra hissed. "Move!"

The team raced as quickly as they could up the hull when C'bal shouted.

"Tangos on our six!" he yelled.

Evra spun around just in time to see a contingent of Sith Jetpack Commandos floating out of one of the Interdictor's docking port and flying to them, already firing.

The Executioner yelled and fired his heavy repeater at the swarm of enemies. Evra fired at the ones getting too close. Jinn calmly picked his targets and pulled the trigger. Jet Pack Commando's sacrifice their shielding for maneuvering capability. But it was a well thought sacrifice, since most, if not all of them evaded the team's shots, staying just out of range.

A whisper of danger from the Force alerted Evra and he managed to warn the other's just as seven of the commandos fired heat seeking rocket's in their direction.

Most of the team was forced to detach from the hull to evade the impact of the rockets, which tore savage gaps into the hull.

Panic nearly overwhelmed Evra as he found himself floating helplessly.

"Evra! Use the Force! Use it to push yourself back to the hull!" Carra yelled out, letting off a Force push that went nowhere, but propelled her backward to the ship.

Evra tried to calm himself, even amid the horrid amounts of shots being fired at him and to his relief found himself flying backwards quickly to the ship. He grabbed onto a jagged piece of damaged hull and steadied himself. But he was still in the line of fire from the nonstop barrage of rocket's the commandos were launching.

He checked his mental timer and ran towards and tapped Tul-Pa on the shoulder just as she Force pushed a rocket away. He gestured for her to come with him. They only had three minutes before the engine blew, by his count. Tul-Pa nodded and followed, telekinetically diverting any missile that got too close. He spotted the bridge and hope soared in him. He ventured forward quickly, careful not to slip in his footing. He had just reached the windows of the bridge when they exploded outward and a man in black Sith Commando armor grabbed hold of him, pulling them both off the hull. Tul-Pa tried to catch Evra but she was too late and the pair battled.

Evra frantically held away the knife in his opponents right hand as they struggled, the black void spinning around them. The Sith swiped and Evra desperately held him off, trying to think of what to do as they spiraled out to nothingness.

He tried to reach for the Sith's oxygen hose but the man head butted him and kicked him away from him.

Evra was tumbling in space now, dizzy, and reaching for his light saber as he felt his opponent reaching for his blaster and firing.

He found it just in time, activating the red blade as the bolts came from seemingly every direction from his perspective. By some miracle, he managed to reflect a few shots back at the Sith, which struck his reinforced face plate.

A light from the corner of Evra's eye distracted him. The engine had exploded. The ship split in half and the shockwave knocked Evra and his would-be killer even further into the blackness.

"Guys. If any of you are still alive, a little help would be really appreciated!" he yelled over his helmet's com-link. he cursed as shrapnel from the ship flew past him, as well as the bodies of a couple of Jet Pack Commandos.

He spotted his Sith opponent again, who had regained his bearings and had drawn a bead on him once more. Evra steadied his trajectory and guarded with his light saber. Just as his opponent fired, Tul-Pa crashed into the Sith, getting him in a headlock as the pair struggled.

Evra deflected the last bolt and found himself scooped up by a pair of arms. It was Jinn, leaning out of the stealth shuttle along with the rest of his team as he was brought aboard.

Tul-Pa, in the meantime, had finally succeeded in choking the Sith unconscious. She threw the limp figure of the Sith at the shuttle and then propelled herself with another Force push.

They closed the hatch and the inside filled with oxygen.

"Snub fighters, closing in," C'bal said as he got into the pilot seat.

"Get us the hell out of here," Evra barked.

The sea of stars in the cockpit window soon dissolved into the white streaks of hyperspace as the stealth shuttle jumped.

"Hot damn, Evra. You must hiding some brass in your pants, kid. I can't believe you pulled it off under those conditions," Colonel Bluefin said as he pulled off the Sith's helmet to reveal the face of Atton Rand, knocked out on the floor. The entire crew looked ragged, even the Executioner, who somehow managed to seem exhausted even though he kept his helmet on all the time, and no one could really tell. Even the blackened, rusty crusader armor couldn't hide his heavy breathing. Carra's normally perfectly tousled blond hair was matted to her scalp with sweat and adrenaline. Tul-Pa was leaning against her lance as a crutch. C'bal was sitting on a crate, still worried he was going to suffer a heart attack.

"I got lucky, that's all," Evra breathed as he collapsed against one of the docking bay's cargo crates, his heart pounding at how ridiculously close he had come to dying.

"There's no such thing as luck," Bluefin replied as he signaled for a security team to escort the unconscious Rand out on a stretcher. They were sure to fit restraints over his arms and legs. They didn't need someone playing Rodian possum.

"Orders, Colonel?" C'bal asked.

"That's enough for now. Get some rest. You all earned it. And Jinn, I'll be sure to arrange some quarters for you," Bluefin said to the now mask less Jinn, whose face was a beige complexion with a stubbly beard, a sharp, slightly hooked nose and a creased, rounded forehead. The deep brows guarded cautious green eyes that darted about constantly. Jinn's strong square jaw worked as he watched Atton being taken away.

Bluefin walked out of the docking bay, following his living prize.

"Good job, team," Evra said to them.

"That battle is exactly what I signed on for. Besides brutally murdering Revan, of course," the Executioner almost gushed. "If only all our missions were as violent as that."

"If I never have to do another spacewalk, it'll be too soon," C'bal interjected, hands still trembling from the adrenaline.

The team started to file out of the bay to their respective quarters. Evra caught the muscular Tul-Pa as she was about to leave.

"You did a good job today. I might have died out there. Thanks," Evra said.

Tul-Pa snorted at this.

"Just try not to make it a habit, family man, or some people might start to think I actually like you," she replied scathingly.

With that, Tul-Pa walked away from the now irked Evra but as she did, he could swear she was swinging her hips more suggestively than usual.


	6. Intelligence Sources

_"Espionage has never been respectable. I don't think the films of James Bond and romantic views of spies have done anything to alter the public revulsion to what espionage really is. That stench is there."_

_-Aldrich Ames_

_"I cannot think that espionage be recommended as a technique for building an impressive civilization. It's a lout's game."_

_-Rebecca West_

B'lerofon, two days after freighter mission.

Evra guarded as Tul-Pa slammed her light saber-lance's blade against his standard red blade. He had chosen to go bare chested, wearing only a simple pair of beige cotton slacks. Tul-Pa was wearing her usual animal hides that as always proved distracting, as they covered only the bare essentials.

They were both in the training room on the B'lerofon, a bare, spherical interior lined with soft white padding for impacts. A light saber rack lay next to the large beige training mat they were fighting on. Tul-Pa was an athletic marvel. Evra could see the muscles and sinews working under her skin, her abdominals flexing as she evaded his blows like a dancer in a routine by back flipping away from him.

Evra would not have minded training with her for a good portion of the day.

But then Tul-Pa opened her mouth and Evra suddenly wondered why he had agreed to this in the first place.

"So, 'Family Man', what are you gonna do when the war is over? Go crawling back to the wife and kids?"

"I'm not gonna go crawling back to them Tul-Pa. I haven't seen them in a long time. I'm gonna hug them like crazy when I have the chance."

"And that's it, huh? No more of this?" she asked, evading a swipe at her knees.

"Probably not. I've had enough of the Jedi and Sith to last a lifetime."

"Probably not? See, you just left yourself a little bit of wiggle room, Evra," she mocked, making a stab for his torso, which made him roll out of the way and stay out of range.

"I don't like to set things in stone," he breathed, guarding.

"C'mon, just admit you like the violence. Just as much as me and the Bucket Head do," Tul-Pa all but accused, moving to his left, preparing to strike.

"The Executioner is a damned Mando. Of course he enjoys it. Why do you?"

"I'm just true to myself," she replied, making a stab that caused him to back another three paces out of her reach. "Besides, violence fascinates me. When you see a person when they are violent, that person's true self is laid bare. Depending on how violent they are or are not will tell you all you will ever need to know about them."

"You've seen me violent. What does that tell you about me?" Evra asked, making a thrust for her chest.

"Still forming an opinion. Need to see more," Tul-Pa replied, diverting his thrust to her right and then clipping him with the bottom of her lance. He tumbled to the mat where Tul-Pa then kicked him in the stomach and held her lance to his throat.

"Yield," she commanded.

"Uh...okay, you win," he coughed.

Tul-Pa shut the blade off and she offered her hand.

Evra took it-and then yanked her down to the mat with him and locked in a chokehold.

"Now you yield," he replied.

Tul-Pa simply laughed, her body dissolving into an oily shadow which slithered behind him and reformed her, who now locked in a chokehold of her own.

"I think I won the first time," she mocked. "But I admire your persistence, if nothing else," she finished, again running that impossibly cold tongue of hers against the edge of his ear, causing him to shiver involuntarily. She laughed again.

"Or did you just want to get your hands on me, Family Man?" she asked sarcastically, letting go of him. This time when she tried to lift him, he didn't pull any tricks.

Tul-Pa smirked. "You know, somehow, I doubt that second possibility. You're too much of a goody-two-sabers. And even you know I'd be too much for you to handle."

"Lady, I'm not even sure you're actually a woman, with those strange tricks of yours."

Tul-Pa leaned close to him. "If you're ever enough of a man, I might let you find out, Family Man," she replied mockingly before sauntering away.

Just as she reached the automatic door leading to the wide open spaces that were the B'lerofon's halls a general alert sounded over the PA system.

"All hands, a violent prisoner has escaped from the cell block. He is armed with a light saber and is considered extremely dangerous. All personnel are to go to their quarters and remain there for the duration of the emergency. Bravo Team is to report to engineering immediately."

"How did it happen? Who is this guy?" Evra asked as he approached Bluefin in the engineering section. Evra had quickly thrown on a blaster proof vest over his bare chest and had grabbed a sonic rifle from the armory. The rest of the team had come as soon as they could. Carra had been caught sleeping and was still wearing her white nightclothes. Yet somehow, in her drowsy, bedraggled state, she still somehow managed to be the very vision of beauty. She clutched her light saber tightly. The Executioner eagerly gripped his double bladed light saber, and Tul-Pa looked almost bored as she leaned on her lance. C'bal clutched a sonic pistol in one hand and a light saber in the other. He too was in his night clothes.

"Bastard surprised us. He was a little more awake than we thought. Got my damn light saber while he was at it. I need him alive, Evra," Bluefin ordered.

"How long have we had this prisoner aboard? Is he a Jedi? A Sith?" Tul-Pa asked.

"Just get in there and take him down," Bluefin repeated, coughing and hacking a little as he said so.

Evra nodded and hit the unlock button on the door terminal. The door opened, sliding into it's repective recesses in the floor and Evra and his team advanced in.

"Bluefin should learn to keep a tighter leash on his secrets. They're liable to get away from him," Tul-Pa said with an air of contempt.

"Not now, Tul-Pa," Evra ordered as he checked up and down the corridor as he went forward.

The lights in the corridor cut off.

"I hate it when that happens," C'bal breathed, already starting to sweat.

"Are you kidding, this is fun! It's like hide and seek. He hides, we seek him out, and then when we find him, we bring the pain!" the Executioner replied in an almost jovial manner.

"You enjoy this far too much for your own good," Carra said, guarding as she slowly moved behind Tul-Pa.

"What is the matter? Blondie afraid her perfect hair's gonna get messed up?" Tul-Pa taunted.

Carra didn't reply, but Evra swore he could hear her grinding her teeth.

A dull thud ahead of them made Evra stop.

Deciding the risk was worth it, Evra activated the flashlight on his rifle.

The man was wearing only a grey set of trunks. Evra could see slightly tanned skin marked by needle wounds at the shoulder. His chest still had the remains of a heartbeat monitor attached to it, the small sticky pads the doctors use to measure the heart rate hung limply at the top of his chest. The needle for an IV drip was lodged in his shoulder, and his head and face was covered by a tight fitting mask with strange silvery nodes sticking out of it everywhere.

The man let out a scream as he made a Force leap, corkscrewing in the air as he activated Bluefin's silver colored light saber, deflecting the shots Evra and C'bal fired as quickly as he could. As he landed, he sliced Evra's rifle in half and nearly took Evra's head off before Evra ducked and backed away.

C'bal let out a bolt of lightning but the man easily absorbed the deadly energy into his hands and reflected it back at C'bal, who screamed and writhed as the enemy found himself engaging the Executioner, who expertly spun his blades in the enclosed space and forced the prisoner to back off.

The Executioner pressed the attack, driving the prisoner back, landing lethal strikes to the left and right of the man, who defended voraciously with what appeared to be a modified form of Soresu.

A diagonal slice from the Mandalorian forced his enemy to back flip out of harm's way and let loose a powerful Force push in mid-air as he did so, flinging the Mandalorian into a wall. Carra activated her light saber, a vibrant green and began her own attack just as Tul-Pa did at the same time. Both women engaged the prisoner from two different attack angles and the man was now defending his front and his back warding off the strikes to his shins and feet before ducking under their swings and slamming his right palm into the floor.

It cracked, splitting in two as both Carra and Tul-Pa were flung away by a Force pulse.

Evra charged, activating his red light saber just as the prisoner turned to meet him with Bluefin's blade.

Their sabers locked. Evra tried to win the lock by throwing his weight against that of his foe, but the man was much, much stronger, and soon Evra was forced to his, knees, desperate to keep his face from being sliced off. The deadly beams were so close he could smell the ozone burning.

Deciding that discretion was the better part of valor, Evra rolled to his side, allowing the prisoner's blade to painfully graze his shoulder as it scorched the floor, eating into the metal.

Evra let off a Force push, which slammed into the prisoner before he could remove the weapon. Unfortunately, the man still managed to accomplish this, and as he was propelled into the darkness further into the engineering section, the molten metal his blade had sank into went up into the air as the light saber was violently yanked out, like a shovel digging dirt.

A few drops of the metal splashed against Evra on his left ear and right shin, causing him to yell as the shards burned into his flesh. He was in agony before he managed to yank enough of it off using the Force before he was coherent enough to continue.

"Everybody alright?" he called out, laying on the floor.

"I'll survive," the Executioner growled, lifting himself out of the crater he had made when he hit the wall.

"That guys really pissed off, whoever he is," Tul-Pa said as she appeared over Evra and helped him to his feet. "Did you feel the rage coming from the man? He was practically frothing at the mouth."

"I could feel it," Carra confirmed as she stood up, nursing a rib. "I get the sense that this is a man who has been severely wronged."

"Not our problem whether he feels wronged. Our job is to catch him," Evra replied firmly, though inside he felt some disquiet at Carra's assertion. They heard a groan from behind.

"Uhhh...I hate this part of the job," C'bal moaned, lying on the floor.

Evra went over two him, activating his light saber and shining it's red light over C'bal, who was curled in a fetal position.

"You okay, buddy?" Evra asked.

"I'll be fine. Now I remember why I hate using lightning," C'bal coughed. "You go on ahead. "I'll just be in a healing trance..."

C'bal closed his eyes and shifted his position a little for more comfort.

"Well, he's out for the time being," Evra spoke, clenching his fist in rage. "Let's get this bastard."

Evra proceeded to lead point once more, with the rest of his team following close by.

"Okay, let's split up," Evra ordered. The entire engineering section had gone dark. He could barely see his hand in front of his face un less he had his light saber on.

"That's crazy! He could pick us off one by one," the Executioner spat.

"That's what he thinks. We're better off on our own. We can all handle ourselves," Evra answered, arms folded

"So you think," Tul-Pa replied scathingly.

"Frak you," Evra replied in a surprisingly casual manner. "Carra and Executioner, check the power distribution room. Tul-Pa, you check the emergency maintenance room. I'll head into the engine diagnostic area. Now when I get there, seal me in. If you don't hear from me in five minutes cut off all life support from emergency maintenance and try and flush the air out of the area."

"But that could kill you!" Carra protested.

"He'll try and pick the weakest one of us off first. That means he'll be gunning for me," Evra replied grimly. "Do as I say."

"Wow, Evra. You got more stones than I thought," the Executioner noted, impressed. "Not everyday I see a guy hang himself up as bait. It'll be interesting to see whether your luck holds."

"With luck like this, who needs misfortune?" Evra replied, not a shred of genuine humor in his words. "You have your orders. Follow them."

His team nodded and went to their objectives. Evra proceeded to the diagnostic section, keeping his light saber on the whole time to see ahead.

As he reached the diagnostic section, he was bathed in the ruddy red glow of the engines themselves as they spun loudly, cutting off almost all other sound. This was definitely where Evra himself would have gone to spring a trap.

He guarded cautiously, skittish about what little irregularities he could make out over the roar of the engines as he moved over the bare bones scaffolding.

He felt the light saber almost too late. He ducked as the deadly silver blade sliced part of the scaffolding, tilting it and making Evra stumble forward and hit the floor.

He spotted the light saber spinning, running through the engines and send a huge chunk of them into the service areas below. The entire section went dark and Evra frantically dodged as the blade sheared through the scaffolding once more before deactivating and flying back upward to its thrower.

Evra shut off his blade and waited. He slowly and quietly got up. It was a waiting game now. He tried to control his breathing even as his heart began to race. He moved slowly, wincing at every creak the scaffolding made. He suddenly remembered the time limit. Five minutes. Two left. He had to end this now.

He stilled his breathing and listened, the sweat of fear pouring down his face.

The tell tale creak alerted him to behind, and he spun around just in time to block the prisoners light saber attack. He defended voraciously with his Soresu while the prisoner reversed his grip. The infamous Shien stance.

The wide sweeping attacks forced Riordo to back off and keep guarding. The prisoner pounced, slamming his light saber into Evra's so hard, that Evra's wrists went numb for a second as he blocked the blow.

The prisoner was relentless as they battled in the dark, the reverse grip throwing off Evra's game as he struck from odd angles and made rapid strikes which taxed Evra until finally the prisoner penetrated his guard and nicked Evra's wrist, causing Evra to drop his own blade in pain. But just as the prisoner swung for a killing blow, Evra let off a weak bolt of lightning at a cooling pipe on the wall.

The gases spewed forth from the pipe and blinded the prisoner, who let out a grunt of surprise and dropped his light saber. Evra yelled and tackled him through the cold gases, and gave the prisoner a Teras Kasi knife hand chop to the prisoner's shoulder blade. The prisoner punched Evra in the nose and Evra reeled in pain as the world went slightly wobbly. He tumbled backward, moaning. The prisoner sprang on him and wrapped his hands around Evra's throat and squeezed.

Evra's world started to go dim as his oxygen supply was cut off.

And then something strange happened.

The prisoner relented on his grasp for just a second.

"Wait...you.." the dry, hoarse voice croaked.

Evra yelled, charging his right fist with Force lightning and punching the Prisoner square in the jaw. The prisoner's head snapped back as Evra shoved the man off of him, getting up and delivering another hand chop to the prisoner's face, which knocked the man back to the ground.

Evra kicked the man in the groin and the prisoner sputtered in pain. He then got on top of him, clasped both his fists together, and brought them down on the prisoner's face over and over until the hooded man finally stopped moving.

Feeling light headed, Evra stumbled in the dark over to the diagnostic console, opening up communications.

"Open the frakking doors!" he shouted, his words slurred by pain and exhaustion.

His feet accidentally brushed some object and he reached down to pick it up. It was his light saber.

He activated it, and went over to the prisoner, the blood still flowing out of his nose at an alarming rate. It had to be broken.

Shining the light directly over the prisoner's head, he grimly reached for the hood and pulled it off.

His mouth dropped in shock.

It was Atton.

Pain and loss of blood chose that moment to promptly relieve Evra of his consciousness.

"Wakey wakey, Family Man."

Evra's eyes fluttered open and stared up at Tul-Pa, looking him over with a raised eyebrow.

"I have to say. I was doubful you could pull it off. You are a very lucky man," she complimented.

Evra tried to move, and found he was in a medical gown. the hard beds of the med-bay to his left and right.

"You've been out for almost a day. Blondie healed your nose and ear up pretty good. Like it never even happened."

"The prisoner..."

"Back in custody. I gotta say, Family Man, you may not be the most powerful or the most skilled Force user I've ever seen, but...you have an odd habit of getting the job done."

Evra stared up at her. "Is that admiration I hear in your voice, Tul-Pa?"

"Could be. Or maybe I'm just amazed you didn't get yourself killed," Tul-Pa replied.

"Just what I was thinking on that last part," Evra croaked, coughing a bit. "So what are you here for?"

"Bluefin told me to babysit you until you woke up. And you woke up. So I'm leaving."

"Whatever. Tell the team they did good today. How's C'bal?"

"After Blondie did her usual coddling, he was as right as rain," she answered. "You should be worried more about yourself, baldy."

With that, Tul-Pa walked out and Bluefin walked in.

"You feeling okay, son?" he asked gruffly, coughing some more.

"I think I saw something I shouldn't have seen. Am I right, sir?" he asked.

"Ah, yes. Atton."

"Atton didn't have any Force powers or skill with a light saber the first time I met him, Colonel. What changed?"

"That...is a very complicated and difficult answer."

"Indulge me," Evra snapped, narrowing his eyes and clenching his teeth. The Sith in him wanted to throttle the old man to within an inch of killing him. He straightened up in the bed and tapped his fingers on his leg impatiently.

"Now, don't go flying off the handle, Riordo! I can explain everything."

"Go on."

Bluefin paced around a bit, hands clasped behind his back.

"Okay, Evra, here's the short version. Atton Rand isn't really who he thinks he is. His real name is Arik Tai. He was a Jedi Knight. A Jedi Sniper, to be exact. An expert with the light saber throw."

"So what's he doing working for the Sith?"

"Because we planted him there, Evra. Psychotropic drugs and hypnosis works just as well as a Jedi Mind Wipe if you know what you're doing. He had left the Jedi Order during the Mandalorian Wars and we approached him with a job offer."

"Infiltration. But I've read the reports on this guy, Colonel. He's a fanatic. Damn near psychopathic."

"Dammit, Evra, this is war! It was deep cover. Arik knew that when he signed on for the assignment he wouldn't be himself for a good long time. But the work he does will ultimately help save lives and bring down Darth Revan and her flunkies. We were recovering him, because he rose through the ranks and now he is chalk full of priceless information. Can you imagine how much he knows being Darth Revan's left hand? Isn't that worth whatever lives he has had to take? You know full well we can't send in standard field agents. They'd be sniffed out by Darth Revan's head doctors! It was the only way, Evra."

Evra stared at him before sighing. The war got more vicious and weird with each passing day. He was thunderstruck about the revelation, but the Sith in him ultimately wasn't surprised. Hell, compared to what Evra himself had done to get to where he was, this was a drop in the bucket.

"I suppose you're right. But I have one more question. Why'd he freak when you brought out his real identity?"

"Doodle-frak, Evra, it ain't an exact science! One of the nurses gave him too much of one thing and not enough of another thing, and it caused him to have a psychotic episode! It happens from time to time with these sorts of treatments."

"He didn't seem psychotic. Matter of fact, he was in control of himself."

"What, he said something to you?" Bluefin asked.

"No," Evra lied. "That was just the feeling I got."

"I see. Listen, Evra. I need you to do me a big favor and drop this. Forget what you saw. Don't ask about it again. Understood?"

"Yes sir," Evra replied. "Permission to leave med-bay?"

"Permission granted. Get some sleep, kid." Bluefin nodded to Evra. "And Evra?"

"Yes?"

"Damn good work today. I didn't think you could beat him on your own, to be honest."

"I didn't think I could either," he replied. "Aw, well. I'm alive. That should count for something."

Bluefin nodded in agreement and then left the med-bay.

Evra was heading back to his quarters when he spotted the Executioner coming out of the training room.

"Well look who's up and about," the Mandalorian said admiringly. "I admit, I had my doubts 'bout you, Evra, but you got the right stuff."

"I got lucky. Real lucky."

"Nonsense. No such thing. Just like the weakling Bluefin says. You caused pain and destruction. You're okay in my book."

"What is it with you Mandalorians and violence? I fought you guys all throughout the Mandalorian Wars and not once did I understand it."

"War is a constant state of change. Violence uproots the weak and makes firm the strong. And you don't understand because you aren't Mandalorian. No offence."

"It doesn't seem all that different from what the Sith are trying to pull."

"Sith are arrogant fools who think it is their destiny to control and subjugate a galaxy that was doing just fine without them or the Jedi for thousands of years. I mean, even if they control every planet, they can each still only visit one at a time. There will always be gaps in their rule. They're fighting to control a galaxy that I'm willing to bet my helmet that ninety-nine percent of them will never see more than one percent of this galaxy they so covet. Now Mandalorians on the other hand, our goal-a true Mandalorian's goal- is to uproot the status quo. Forever. We wish to turn the galaxy to rubble in a cleansing fire of constant change. We seek only to hate our enemies, bring death to them, and in the bringing of that death, prove our superiority."

"You're a monster," Evra replied in total disgust. But the Sith in him gleefully reminded him of the very lessons he himself had been taught in the Sith academy.

The Executioner did not even seemed fazed. Being a Mandalorian, he had probably heard the condemnation thousands of times.

"We're not monsters. We just know that civilization is a lie, and the only thing that can shatter the lie is a copious amount of bloodshed... And to keep bringing that bloodshed until everyone else realizes the lie and joins us in the fighting. It isn't about honor. It isn't about brothers in arms. In the end, it isn't really even about our own hunger for destruction. It's about exposing civilization for the lie it is, and then burning it to the ground. All of it. To bring truth."

Evra looked at him like he belonged in a cell with rubber padding."You can't have always thought this way. How would the other Mandalorian's have tolerated you?"

"True. I didn't always see the truth about life and all its absurdities. I was once a rank and file Mandalorian who was just getting sick and tired of the Jedi using their sorcery to prevent a fair fight."

"So, what happened?"

"Malachor happened. It...opened my eyes. Wanna listen?"

Evra folded his arms. "I'm game."

"Alright. It was the final battle, see? I was part of a sniper ambush that had just finished wiping out this demolitions team that had come to blow up one of our bunkers. Apparently their Jedi commander had bugged out and ditched them. They were easy pickens."

"Lots of people were on Malachor. Grassy plains as far as the eye could see, guarded by snow capped mountains and all that," Evra replied.

"Well anyway, I spotted someone moving on the battlefield-You ain't gonna believe this. It was Jedi Master Arren Kae! She was carrying someone on her shoulder. Guess who it was."

Evra thought a moment, frowning. Finally he shrugged. "I give. Who?"

"It was the Jedi General Valia Renn! The Butcher of Barab herself! Revan's right hand, and I alone had spotted them. The chance for glory was irresistible. I had to take the chance."

"What happened next?" Evra asked, genuinely intrigued by the possibility that this man might have played a bigger part in history than he had first suspected.

"I followed them. Boy, was she fast, that Arren Kae! I followed her for a whole kilometer, running the whole bloody time as strafing fire and artillery barrages kept knocking me off my feet. I spotted an RPG on one of my side's corpse and grabbed it. I wanted to do this right." The Executioner sounded more and more excited as he began to describe the tale. He started pacing back in forth while Evra listened.

"Keep talking."

"Unfortunately, I was a bit behind and I almost lost them. When I finally caught up. Valia Renn had already been lifted off in a evac shuttle, but Arren was still there. I had learned through prior experiences that it doesn't fly to aim a rocket directly at a Jedi. So I did something I was sure would put her in the rocket's path. I aimed at an ensign coming to give her a field report. It worked beautifully. Oldest trick in the book. Arren pushed the ensign aside and the rocket hit her dead on! She was blown to pieces! I could see her flying everywhere!" the Executioner gushed. "I even saw the cloud of blood she turned into through the explosion! Anyway, as pieces of her were landing every which way, I killed everybody else at the evac site and blew up the shuttles with more RPG's I had found so nobody else could escape. Then I went to the bloody stain I had turned Arren into and picked up an ear off the ground and stuffed it into a pouch. I still have that by the way. I found her right arm some distance away still clutching her light saber. Took that too. And then I found a real prize; her holocron," the Executioner gestured wildly as he paced about.

"That explains how you got your abilities," Evra said, trying to contain his horror and disgust at the violent end one of the greatest heroes of the war had met at the hands of this bloodthirsty brute. Even so, he had to admit he was intensely intrigued at having one of the biggest questions of the war answered finally.

"It was damaged. It looked kinda funny too. Pyramid shaped. I never saw a Jedi holocron like that. And it was this unpleasant red color also. But anyway, I had scarcely begun to enjoy my victory when...the Mass Shadow Generator activated. I...heard this terrible screaming all around me and inside me, and then I blacked out. When I came too, I was under the wreckage of an evac shuttle. There were bodies everywhere. The landscape had changed to a hellish black. I was disoriented. Bleeding. There must have been at least a dozen others alive on the surface. Maybe more."

"That's impossible. Nobody could have survived it."

"Maybe that day was my lucky day. I wandered for a while, ran into this funny looking fella in a strange mask. Called out to him, but he didn't say anything back. I found several Mandalorians alive, moaning-all screaming for the voices in their souls to stop. Three Republic troopers were alive also. Didn't do anything to them. Didn't see the point. We all huddled in a circle until Republic scouts ships came. They picked us all up. I later watched in disgust as Revan destroyed all our weapons and armor, and I been trying to kill the schutta ever since."

"How do you think you survived?"

"Not quite sure how. Maybe it was because I was Force-Sensitive. I later found out that all of the people, Mandalorians included, that had been rescued all displayed an above average Midi-Chloral count. All of them were complaining of the same thing: Voices. Never found the guy in the mask though."

"Did you have the same problem?"

"What? No. Of course not," the Executioner answered quickly. Too quickly, Evra noted.

"Well anyway, that was when I finally understood the absurdity of fighting for a civilization, and how far my people had strayed."

"How was it absurd? I still don't get it."

The Executioner sighed. He stopped pacing.

"No. Maybe you don't, at that," he replied, leaning against the door to the training room. "All throughout the Mandalorian wars, I helped conquer and devastate worlds. I watched from orbit the devastation of Cathar, helped set fire to the Xoxin Plains and thus killed an entire battalion of Republic troops, pillaged an ancient Jedi Temple on the hellish world of Mustafar. And that whole time, the Republic thought it could be better than us. It angered me. For a while there, I actually started to believe that the Republic sincerely believed what it preached. Malachor showed me what a sucker I had been. The Republic had never sacrificed so many troops in battle before, and in such a manner. I tell you, Evra, getting crushed by a planet's gravity is probably one of the worst ways to go that I can imagine. Good thing that damn Zabrak hadn't worked out all the kinks, or the energy distribution would have been much more equal and I would be dead. When I saw what they had done, when I saw the Republic drop their ideals and smite us, I realized that a society that was willing to do that did not really believe what they told themselves. And then I realized the absurdity of Mandalorians fighting for their own civilization. We were both wrong."

"I see," Evra replied, realization of the Mandalorian's disillusionment dawning. He suddenly felt the aches in his back and remembered he was tired.

"Well...this has been a fun chat and all, but I have to get some sleep."

"But of course. Thanks for listening. Not many a man are brave enough to hear a Mandalorian's idea of a fun filled day."

Evra nodded and walked away, shaking his head.


	7. Head Trauma

_"Deception is a cruel act...it often has many players on different stages that corrode the soul."_

_-Donna A. Favors._

_"All warfare is based on deception"_

_-Sun Tzu_

B'lerofon, five days after prisoner escape attempt.

"Listen up gang, I got a new job for you," Colonel Bluefin announced gruffly, coughing and hacking for about a minute before he could continue. He paced around the briefing room.

"Twelve hours ago, I got a heads up from the Chancellor that Bastila Shan is being prepped for surgery to remove a malignant tumor in her brain."

"How likely is it that she will die?" Carra asked, curious.

"That's the thing. Bastila isn't really sick. We've been putting stuff in her food for the past eight months to simulate the symptoms of a brain tumor."

"Why?" Evra asked. First it was Atton. Now it was this. Evra felt the bile rising in his throat but betrayed nothing in his expression. The back of his mind screamed at the wrongness of it, but he ignored it after a few seconds.

Bluefin hit a button on the holo-projector and brought up an image of Bastila Shan.

"She's got a cute butt. She must work out a lot," the Executioner whistled.

"Heh, you got that right-wait a minute, I'm getting off track here," Bluefin replied, turning away from the image. "Bastila Shan has become increasingly central to our war effort. Her battle meditation has proved over the past few months to turn the tide of even Revan's best laid plans."

"I can vouch for that statement," Carra added. "Revan is very upset over Bastila. This Padawan wasn't even considered a rising star in the order before that gift of hers manifested. Bastila has kinda broadsided her."

"Indeed. Well some of the Chancellors advisors got to thinking: What if the Sith ever captured her and turned her? Then we'd never win. This surgery should correct that," Bluefin said with a smirk.

"How?" Evra inquired, growing uneasy.

"She's going to a medical outpost of ours on Hoth. Once she's on the operating table, Doctors will introduce a series of implants to her frontal lobes and cerebral cortex. These implants will enforce certain thought patterns, like loyalty to the Jedi and the Republic. I love science."

"You mean we're going to take her free will away?" Evra wondered, now distinctly against the idea.

"No. We're going to influence her to make the right choices. Think of it as the technological equivalent of a pep talk." Bluefin's face was as expressionless as Evra's. He really didn't care at all, Evra mused.

"This is wrong on so many levels," Evra mumbled. Shooting the girl would have been better. He didn't care how Bluefin dressed this up. This was fiddling with a person's mind for the sole purpose of ensuring loyalty. It always turned out bad in the end.

"Evra, Bastila is a military asset, and I won't deny she has done us a world of good. I certainly won't deny she's hot as hell either. But she is still a Jedi, and her Order has a long, sad, rotten history of members going bad when they got too much power. All it takes is for her to decide she likes the power a little too much and we're screwed. We have to have fail safes for their kind. If they did stuff like this to their own, maybe we wouldn't have so many cases of them going bad."

"Despite the fact you're using the exact same kind of people?" Tul-Pa asked with her now trademark smirk.

"Hey, I'm a saint compared to the rest of you," C'bal spoke in protest. "Which, I might add, is in SPITE of the fact that I munch on people's frontal lobes."

"Don't get so full of yourself, Glass Baby," the Executioner snorted. "You're a criminal just like the rest of us."

"Not as long as I donate some of my paycheck to the local Med-Centers," C'bal replied confidently.

Bluefin cleared his throat, gaining the groups attention. "Now, the operation is the easy part, but we all know that Revan has spies in the government. One of them will have surely informed her by now that Bastila is due for surgery. And Revan will be preparing to take her when they move Bastila to Hoth. That's where you guys come in. You'll each be inserted into a different part of the Republic garrison stationed on Hoth. Evra and Tul-Pa will go in as foot soldiers, Executioner will go in as a merc hired by the Republic. C'bal will be inserted into the medical team as a back-up surgeon from the Rim. Carra will go in as a Jedi Knight."

"Is that wise Colonel? Other Jedi there may not recognize me," Carra warned. "Besides, Should they not sense the Dark Side in at least one of us?"

"I learned the Queytek Meditation back on Korriban. Don't worry about me," Evra replied.

"Those Jedi bastards always 'sense the Dark Side' in Mandalorians. They won't blink at me," the Executioner chuckled.

"I can naturally hide my presence due to my genetic manipulation," C'bal added helpfully.

"I don't show up either on a Jedi's mind scan unless I want to," Tul-Pa responded.

"Huh. I still don't know if I could actually pass myself off as a Jedi.

Bluefin laughed. "Carra, with your presence, if they don't buy you are a Jedi, then I'll eat my frakking shoes. I've left details in datapads in your personal quarters. Dismissed."

Five hours from landing.

Riordo finished strapping on his his white winter clothes for the Icy conditions of Hoth. He stared at himself in the mirror in the corner of his room and realized he didn't feel like himself. The Republic sigil stitched into his jacket looked foreign when worn by him, though he could not figure out why. He shook the discomfort off after a moment however.

He had looked at the data. The mission would be difficult, but not impossible.

And yet, he found he couldn't quite take his mind off of the Executioner's story. It had certainly been one of the most disgusting he had ever heard, but he found it hard to argue with the Executioner's underlying argument.

Even he hadn't thought the Republic would go that far. He could remember the sickening number of casualties. Only later did he notice that many of the names on the list had not been Revan's biggest fans.

He himself had not trusted her, but had been careful not to voice that opinion during the war. Yet somehow, he had managed to be there anyway.

Malachor, ever since the damn Mando had brought it up, seemed to be giving him nightmares. Just last night he had dreamt about being on the surface again, except it wasn't going the way he remembered, and it had ended with a bunch of dark hands reaching for him...

And that thing with Atton...that had come from nowhere, broad sided him. That was truly a disturbing thing to do. To rewrite a person's memory...the Republic these days seemed to be willing to go to new lows in order to win. It didn't help that they had suffered a series of devastating conflicts, either caused by Jedi or related to conflicts caused by Jedi, who seemed more and more to be failing their mission of bringing peace and order.

Perhaps the galaxy wants the Jedi to fail, Evra pondered. Maybe the Jedi ideal of peace was simply unachievable. A lost cause from the start. The Republic's idea of order looked less and less like the Jedi's version with each passing day. It was becoming...pragmatic. Jedi were no longer the light saber wielding wunderkinds fighting bands of pirates or negotiating a trade agreement. (Evra had always wondered how that kind of business transaction could be so complicated it required somebody who could use a bar of plasma to speed things up.) They were slowly becoming pariahs in the public eye. Their masters discredited in the government. Rumors were going around that the Senate and the High Council were barely on speaking terms. Even the most renowned knights were said to completely disregard orders from the Council nowadays, and it didn't help the fact that more than a few had defected to Darth Revan.

There was a breaking point, and the Republic and Jedi was fast approaching it. Both sides patience for the other was running out.

Evra shook himself from his musings. He had a job to do.

He walked outside his quarters, blaster pistol holstered to his leg and carbine slung over his shoulder. He stopped by Carra's room first.

What he saw caught him by surprise.

Carra was standing, shaking in place, her gaze twisted into a hard, frightening stare as she fixed her sights on a wall.

"What the hell do you mean you can't find him?! You've been looking for days! He couldn't have gotten off the planet! He's too young!" she bellowed. "Don't you give me that tired excuse! I want him FOUND!" She picked up something that wasn't there from the ground and tossed it at someone who didn't exist.

"Carra?!" Evra shouted, going over to her and shaking her. "Carra! Snap out of it!"

"What?!" she snarled, turning towards him as he shook her. As she stared at him however her gaze softened, until recognition flared.

"E-Evra!" she stammered, flicking her hair back in surprise. "I-I'm so sorry! Did I hurt you? How long was I gone?"

"I don't know," Evra replied. "You were yelling at someone when I walked in."

"Forgive me," she replied somberly, her head lowered. "I must have forgotten to take my medication."

"Where is it?" he asked.

She reached into her white robe, pulling out a bottle of black pills. She popped three into her mouth, then she pulled out a small hypo and injected herself in the left arm. Evra saw the needle tracks running up her arm for the first time.

"Tranquilizer. Stops some of the more undesirable side-effects from the anti-psychotic. I'm gonna be sick though..." Carra explained, immediately covering her mouth and ran for the rest room. Evra simply stood there and watched her heaving into the toilet.

"Good thing those pills get absorbed into the system the instant they hit the stomach, or I'd be screwed," Carra choked out.

Evra went over and helped her up. She grabbed a small towel and wiped the vomit from the corners of her mouth.

"Thanks," she said. "I'll get ready soon. It was a good thing you came along when you did. I can get lost in those tangents for hours. My legs are a bit rubbery right now, so please bear in mind..."

"Take your time," Evra replied, concern still evident on his face. He helped her to her bed where she sat, rubbing her temples.

"When did you first become connected to her?" Evra asked.

Carra looked at him with weary eyes. She suddenly-for little more than a split second-looked much older than she appeared.

"I was very young when it happened. It was on Dantooine. There were...troubles back then. It was just when Valia Renn was starting to get her reputation."

"She must have been fun," Evra replied with a raised eyebrow.

"No. She wasn't. She was just as brutal back then. Didn't accept surrender, didn't accept mercy. But...the Jedi kept her because they needed her. She had potential as a...'deniable asset'."

"You fought by her side?" Evra asked, sitting down next to her.

"At one point, yes. We parted ways. Did you?"

Evra went quiet. He focused his stare at a single point in the wall, the memories of the suicide missions that woman had sent him on bubbling up.

"At Barab yes," he finally answered. "You know how she got the title 'Butcher of Barab'?"

"No,"

"I was part of a team of 'sappers' she assembled. We disrupted Mandalorian supply routes, booby trapped entire kilometers of terrain and once we had taken Barab, I was part of a firing squad that shot dozens of captured Mandos on Valia's orders. Valia herself took a light saber to almost two hundred Mandalorians who had surrendered. Then she ordered a nuclear strike on Barab due to the fact that a Mandalorian fleet was heading there as backup. I speak Mandalorian, so Valia had me transmit to the fleet that we had repelled the attack but were in desperate need of resupply. The fleet commander bought it. Next thing he knows, a volley of fire from the Mandalorian guns on the surface impact his ship...not to mention the hail of nuclear weapons Revan had mined the the orbit with. Entire fleet was wiped out on Valia's orders. They destroyed any fleeing vessels."

"Did they deserve that?" Carra asked, a look of horror distorting her too-perfect features.

Evra stared at her, his eyes cold and steely.

"If you had asked me during the wars, I would have said yes. Mandos subjugated Barab, forced the population into work camps. Millions died. But now...I have the luxury of questioning my orders. It never feels right to do that stuff. Something...unsporting about it. But the Republic wasn't feeling sporting after the Stereb cities were bombed. The Senate suspended the rules of war under the guise of more fully combating the Mandalorians. That suspension of the rules is the only thing that has kept me from being officially recognized as a war criminal."

Carra turned to him, still wincing as she remembered her headache. "Why are you here, Evra?"

Evra's head hung down.

"I'm honestly not sure. Maybe I was tired of civilian life. Maybe...maybe Tul-Pa is right. Maybe I like the violence. The Sith...they instill an enthusiasm for it that you would find unsettling in other people. In order to instill it, they make you hurt people...torture 'em...at the time I figured, why not? I was already enough of a bastard during the Barab and dxun campaigns. What's one more piece of my soul gonna matter?"

"Do you still believe that?" Carra asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.

He pulled away. "It's different when it's a Republic officer you're poking with a hot iron bar. Though on some sick level...I suppose it isn't really all that different. It's just who it's being done too that matters to the person at hand. Of course, such reasoning gets lost when you're part of a group that would gladly do it to anyone of their own without hesitation if they thought it would gain them something," he replied somberly.

Evra then shook himself from the horrible memories and stood up.

"Evra," Carra spoke, concern in her eyes.

He turned to her.

"You should meditate. It helps a little. And...don't listen to what Tul-Pa said. The only one who can determine what kind of person you are is you. No one else."

"Buzz me on the com-link when you're ready," he told her before leaving.

Five hours later...

Hoth was a wasteland. No, to call it a wasteland would be an insult to real wastelands, where there was actual waste. This place was just...desolate, Evra thought as he filed out of the hover tank with all the other grunts he had been dropped in with. Even his uniform, thick and padded though it was, was not capable of keeping out the cold completely. His toes felt frozen.

The station the battalion of Republic troops was staying at had been built into the mountain side, amidst the snow and ice formations. And blizzards, there were always blizzards.

Evra blew on his hands to keep them warm as he stood at attention along with the other nameless grunts for the man apparently overseeing the operation. He looked tough and grizzled; looking like he hadn't shaved in a few days and his hair could use a cut. He was wearing the same winter BDU as the rest of them. With a start, Evra realized he was staring at none other than Captain Carth Onasi, the man who had supposedly saved Revan and Malak's life during an assassination attempt on Dxun. Fate could not have been crueler to this native of Telos had she tried.

"Welcome to Delta Base, Gentlemen. I know you're all tired and cold, so I'll try and hurry this up. You are basically stuck here doing guard duty. This base was chosen because it was deemed capable of providing the best protection for our asset. I don't need to remind you all of the severity of what would happen should she be captured. That's it. Report to mess, get yourself something warm in you, your first shift will be out in the trenches later on tonight. You though," Onasi said, pointing to Riordo, "You come with me."

Evra nodded and followed Carth past the massive hanger doors as the rest of the platoon headed for mess.

"It really is no surprise they added you on at the last minute, soldier," Carth began. "I was initially a little wary of letting a last minute addition in, but I was going over the profile they sent me on you. Impressive. Most impressive. Saw action at Dxun, eh?"

"Yes sir. I wish I hadn't," Evra replied carefully.

"Don't we all," Carth remarked dryly, his gaze darkening into something rather frightening for just a second. "It's hard to find vets like you. I'm surprised you hadn't been promoted."

"I'm a career soldier, sir. I'm not interested in advancement. Front lines is where I'm best."

"No doubt. Why did Command add you on at the last minute? Any special orders?" He asked casually as they walked past the maintenance bays, with people bustling about with tools and plenty of cursing to be had.

"No sir. I was just transferred with no explanation. I go where the brass tells me."

Carth laughed and patted him on the back. "I feel you there. Listen. I got a whole bunch of rookies here who have never really seen heavy fighting. Hoth is on the absolute edge of Republic space. Something tells me Ol' Metalface knows where Bastila is."

"I think so too, sir."

"Do you, now?" Carth chuckled. "What I'm trying to say, is, I need a set of good, experienced soldiers to have Bastila's back when she arrives here. Are you willing to be part of her security detail?"

"Of course, sir," Evra affirmed. He saluted Carth. Carth saluted back, grinning.

"You're gonna do just fine here, Corporal. Let's get some grub in us,"

Evra nodded and the two begin their trek through the icy tunnels to the mess hall.

The Orbital shuttle landed on the docking pad through the blizzard. Evra and Carth were waiting for it's occupants impatiently.

The back of the shuttle hissed open, releasing gasses from the interior.

Bastila Shan stepped out, covered in heavy robes that concealed her face. She was accompanied by a team of Jedi Knights, one of them being Carra, who had been added to Bastila's security detail at the last minute under Republic orders, while the others where people Evra was sure he never wanted to be on the bad side of.

They all wore a dark green uniform with a bit of white showing beneath their green jacket, their left arm encased in orange leather armor and a pauldron. Their eyes had deep dark areas around them, like they rarely slept. Their light sabers seemed to be constructed alike, a black hilt with a ridged grip. It was always in their hand. Always. The flesh of the dark haired men and women was pale or ashen.

Evra knew what they were instantly. Jedi Snipers. Temple defenders. Experts with the light saber throw. So dedicated to swordsmanship they had developed an almost unhealthy symbiotic relationship with their light sabers. The relationship was said to be so intense that if a Sniper was killed and their light saber was still around, it would no longer function, and would rust away after a few days. Contrariwise, destroying their saber would supposedly kill the Sniper instantly.

"Welcome to Hoth, Bastila. I'm Captain Onasi. I'll be overseeing defense of Delta Base during your stay here. We have the O.R. prepped for your arrival," Carth said, stepping forward.

"Thank you captain," Bastila said with a cultured Coruscanti accent. "I'd like to warm up a bit before we get started though."

"Of course, this way. Corporal, go with her," Onasi ordered.

"Understood, sir," Evra replied. He gestured to Bastila and led her and her team away from the docking pad back into the base's security area. The circular sensors lining the ridged walls shined lasers on the group.

"Warning. High-end energy weapons detected. Please wait for Base personnel to clear you," The female computerized voice announced over the loudspeaker.

"Computer, they're fine," Onasi said.

"Acknowledged. Welcome to Delta Base." The oval shaped door ahead of them slid open.

"Carra Bhakti, isn't it?" Bastila asked Carra as they traveled through the icy corridors. "I don't recall you from any of the temples I've visited."

"I'm mostly on the rim. I serve as a scout."

"How come the Republic ordered you here and not the council?" Bastila asked, a small look of disquiet passing over her features.

"The Republic trusts my work. Believe me, Padawan, it all went through the proper channels," Carra answered smoothly. "Do you honestly think I'd be here if the Council didn't know who was with you at all times?"

"I suppose you're right. Forgive me. I've gotten rather edgy the past few days due to the prognosis."

"I'm sure you'll be fine. You have nothing to worry about," Carra assured her with a smile.

Bastila nodded, smiling back. "By the way, where did you train?"

"Here and there. More of a case of 'Tach see, Tach do,' to be honest..." Carra answered, flashing a smile.

Evra had sat at a different table with Carth as he watched Bastila drink her caffa from afar with Carra and the rest of the Jedi. The Snipers peered this way and that, the light sabers never leaving their hands even as they drink their own cups of caffa.

"What do you rate her?" Carth asked.

"Pardon, sir?" Evra asked, frowning in surprise.

"Bastila. What do you rate her?"

Evra took another look. Now that Bastila had her heavy robes off, she looked quite shapely in that skin tight tan and brown outfit she was often spotted wearing. Evra wondered how many of those she had. Such clothes are prone to tearing easily.

Evra suddenly remembered he was married.

"Not polite to stare. Besides, I have a wife waiting back home on Corellia."

"A wife, huh?" Carth said, interest perking. "I had a wife...she died in the attack on Telos. Got kids?"

"Two. A boy and a girl."

"Treasure 'em, soldier. See them whenever you get the chance. You never know when they could be taken away. especially in times like this."

Evra regretted bringing up such a sore subject. He wondered how it felt to be one of the few thousand Telosians left in the galaxy.

"I do, Sir."

"Good. Let's get the operation underway. Carth stood up from the mess table and announced it was time to the Jedi present.

Bastila nodded and the group gathered, readying themselves for the ordeal.

The Hand of Dark, Revan's Flagship.

"Ewoks," Revan said plainly, tapping her fingers on her work desk as she read the data pad. "Ewoks killed an entire legion of my best troops?"

"Yes, milord," the red Twi-Lek general Dall Gorken replied, fidgeting nervously in his uniform.

"How did this happen," Revan demanded. "How did a bunch of furry little midgets with spears kill off so many?"

"Endor is one giant forest, My lord. They hide everywhere. We don't know the terrain all that well."

"And you say Corle is hiding among them?" Saul Karath asked, standing next to Revan and Malak, leaning against the observation window with his arms folded.

"Yes. One of our scouts sighted him. I think he has been teaching them basic guerilla tactics."

Revan thought a moment. "Get out of my sight," she said a moment later.

The general nervously turned and walked out of her quarters.

"You didn't strangle him with your mind. What a surprise," Saul noted sarcastically.

"Ewoks," Revan said again, running the word over her tongue. "My war effort is being undermined...by Ewoks."

"Well in all fairness to General Gorken, Ewoks DO scalp people. They're also cannibals, from what I hear," Malak said.

"They are furry little midgets with spears. That is no excuse."

"Should we bombard the planet after we're done in the Hoth system?" Malak asked.

"If I had a credit for every time our esteemed Lord Malak asked if we should bombard something I'd be able to buy your soldiers from you and supply every last one of them with at least two whores, Lord Revan," Saul noted dryly, rolling his eyes in contempt.

"You just like to egg the both of us on, don't you Karath?" Malak sneered, gripping his light saber. "What if I took this light saber and cut out your tongue?"

Saul dismissed him with a gesture of his hand. "Keep your mouth shut, Malak. Oh wait, I forgot...you don't have one, do you?"

It was times like this that Revan seriously wondered whether Saul had a death wish. She was amazed that Malak didn't leap for him. Then again, even Malak understood that Saul's death would cost them.

"Now is not the time for insults. We have an invasion to plan, gentlemen."

"Ah, yes, our little jaunt into the giant snowball. The intelligence is solid enough. Bastila is hiding there. But as to why, I don't know. They say she is having some kind of operation," Karath replied, instantly switching to business.

"They have some pretty tight defenses. I say we smash the guns first, then take out the shield generator so we can bombard-" Malak stopped himself as Revan and Saul glowered at him.

"Malak, why don't you make yourself useful and lead the ground assault? And take that Darth Sion fellow with you. Let us adults here handle the thinking portion," Karath suggested scathingly.

Malak looked at him for a second then shook his head and walked out grumbling.

"You'd better be careful, Saul. You're pushing it. With both of us."

"Ugh, not you too. Malak is a child at warfare and you know it. And like a child, he needs to be told what to do. Firmly."

"I'm the only one who tells him what to do, Karath. Don't ever forget that again."

Saul clenched his fists, Revan noted to her own disquiet that he was actively fighting the urge to slap her despite the consequences."Pray tell, who is telling him how to execute a mission while you're off lollygagging at some negotiation table for a world's surrender? Who is keeping him from blowing a planet up while you're making an appearance at a troop rally? Who is running the day to day chores of making sure this fleet of rabid wolves doesn't eat itself in these wretched power struggles? Me, that's who. So if you don't like me giving orders to him, maybe you need to train him a little better and quit saddling me with him when he makes a mistake."

"Where you got that mouth of yours Saul, I have no idea, but it is REALLY getting on my nerves."

"I got this mouth because I left everything behind to follow you and that bald nitwit to help you conquer the galaxy, and because your husband killed the last Admiral in a rage. I have this mouth because I have to deal with you two every day while you two bicker like old ladies. And I'm keeping this mouth because frankly, This is how I feel about the both of you deep down."

Revan looked at him like he had overdosed on spice. "Are you THAT ready to die, Saul?"

"That a threat, Revan? I don't take well to threats."

Revan wanted to tear her hair out. And then she wanted to tear his hair out and make him eat it.

"Look, Saul, I don't know what the hell has gotten into you. Frankly, I don't really care. It's going to stop. Today. Maybe I've been overworking you. Is that it? Do you need time off?"

"Like I'm gonna get a vacation where someone won't try to kill me. What I NEED is a little bloody common sense around here. Listening to you drone about how you're gonna conquer the galaxy day in day out isn't exactly endearing you to me. And Malak? Well...I just hate him, so there's nothing you can do to stop me from mocking him every chance I get, light saber or no. We're under attack from all sides, and frankly, I'm not sure that shelling out all these resources is worth one measly Jedi with measly battle-whatever-you-call-it."

"Battle meditation. It's a rare gift, highly prized since ancient times among the-"

"Yes, yes, lovely. Just lovely. It's easier and far more efficient to just kill the schutta. And that's something even your lockjaw of a husband can't screw up, if you order him to do it."

"No. Bastila is too gifted to be cast down in such a manner. He will capture her."

"What, you're looking to replace him or something? That's the only legitimate reason I could think of for sending out all the manpower. This plan had better work, Revan."

"Or what?" Revan asked crossly.

"Or you're going to be out a couple thousand troops," Saul replied snidely.


	8. Ice

Evra had been catching a few moments rest in an ice tunnel when a loud rumble stirred him from the bench he had been resting on.

"Get up, Family Man," said a familiar voice over his comlink.

He pulled it out. "Tul-Pa? That you?"

"Of course. Who else would bother waking your sorry ass up? The Sith-they're here. Get up."

Cursing, Evra swore. Once, just once, he mused, he would like a mission to go according to plan.

Grabbing his carbine as another blast from overhead rocked the tunnel, he ventured through an ice passage in the base, trampling through the dirty snow as he ventured to the operating room where Bastila was being "fixed".

The tunnel he was going through was cramped, barely letting two people pass through it. More and more impacts shook the tunnel until Evra was forced to dodge a cave-in of the tunnel ahead.

"Huh. Not getting out that way," he muttered, dusting himself off. He pulled out a com-link. "Tul-Pa! Things went south here. I need another route to surgery."

"Let's see. I'm in the security section, so..." she trailed off. "Got it. There should be a small maintenance tunnel where I first acquired you. Do you see it?"

Evra turned around behind him, spotting the tunnel, close to the bench he had been sleeping on. To say it looked "cramped" would have been far too generous a description.

Evra groaned. He wished he had a cigarra. Maybe a drink. He quickly made his way into the tunnel, shimmying his way through it, pulling out his pistol and pointing it ahead through the narrow tunnel in case the Sith had managed to breach the base itself.

And explosion from overhead knocked Evra back ward, he was instantly covered in snow and it went down his throat. He coughed violently, struggling as he righted himself. The blast had blown a hole in the tunnel above and he could see only the howling blizzard and hear only the whine of blasters firing over head.

Cursing his luck, Evra used a number of vulgarities that will not be repeated on this page as he scrambled up the opening, pulling out his thermal visor and scanning the area through a world of deep blacks and hot whites outlining other people firing at one another.

He began to make his way through the knee deep snow, trudging along at a dangerously slow pace, when a hail of blaster bolts howled his way. One managed to clip him in the shoulder and he barely avoided the rest.

Face down in the deep snow from where he tripped, blind and numbing, he pulled out his carbine and fired blindly at where the Force told him the shots had come from. He could here nothing over the howling of the wind. His fingers clenched on his rifle with a white knuckle grip, his teeth chattering as he sensed his shots slam into the chest of the three Sith snow troopers who had tried to kill him. They fell backward and did not move again.

Dropping his rifle, Evra freed himself from the snow. His teeth chattered as he slung his rifle back over his shoulder. The Force suddenly whispered to pull his light saber out of his jacket, but he couldn't see the reason-

He ducked almost too late as light saber came screaming for him.

He rolled, frantically trying to remove his light saber from his jacket before his enemy could relieve him of his head.

He dodged a light saber thrust for his spine and haphazardly managed to kick his opponent away, finally removing his weapon. The red blade went active and he blocked the thunder strike from his opponents blade that brought him to his needs. He felt his wrist go numb.

A punch from his opponent smashed the goggles on his face. He was lucky his nose wasn't broken. At least, he didn't _think _it was.

He finally managed to get a look at his opponent. He was bald and bare chested. His right arm was wrapped in leather bindings of some sort and he was wearing the lower half of a set of robes. He had a frightful grin on his face.

Evra decided it was now or never. He charged, making a desperate swipe at his foe. The grinning man blocked the strike and force pushed him backward as though he was nothing.

Evra tumbled into the snow, his light saber falling free from his grip.

And he still couldn't hear a frakking thing besides the howling wind.

He panicked, searching through the snow drift for his light saber when he felt his opponent approach him.

Evra had one trick left. If he screwed it up he was dead.

His opponent approached, light saber raising for a killing blow.

"I'm sure there is an interesting story behind your light saber, but I'm in a rush, so..." the man trailed off in a dead, metallic voice.

Evra used all his might in that instant to Force pull his enemy down into the snow with him, lighting a flair he had removed from his belt as he did so.

The man snarled, falling forward-and his right eye directly landed on the lit flair.

The man screamed, thrashing about, his light saber tossed aside as Evra jammed the flair into his eye further. Evra then pulled out his combat knife, rolled him over and brutally stabbed the man until he stopped moving.

Evra spotted the man's light saber, a dark hilt with a spike at the bottom and picked it up, stuffing it into his jacket. He also finally spotted his own and did the same with it.

He stared at the body.

"I'd say something witty-but I'm not witty," Evra grunted. "Force, I need a drink..." He trudged off, using his powers to find his way to his destination.

It was a while before he finally managed to reach the entrance to Delta Base. The gate was blown apart, and not by explosives. Someone had used a Force pulse.

Evra brought out his light saber, keeping it ready as he advanced with a pistol. He ducked behind a crate as he spotted Darth Malak with a squad of Sith troopers.

"Scour this entire complex until you find Bastila," Malak ordered. "Lord Revan wants her alive."

Evra pulled out his com-link. "Tul-Pa, you still there?" he whispered.

"I managed to make it to Surgery. The head surgeon was killed by falling ice, so C'bal had to eat his brain and take over. I also kinda had to kill all of Bastila's bodyguards when they saw this," Tul-Pa answered.

Evra blanched at this.

"Darth Malak just entered the base," he replied, eyeing Malak from behind cover. "I'll try and buy you some time. Where's the Executioner?"

"Somebody ask for me?" the Executioner drawled over the com-link.

"Ex! Where are you?" Evra hissed.

"Right here," he answered bursting through the wall on a captured Sith Walker, a decidedly skeletal biped vehicle that had the Executioner protected by a shimmering blue force field as he sat in a barebones cockpit. The legs of the machine ended in claws and attached to each leg was a blaster turret.

"Haw haw. I have a walker. And you don't," the Executioner cackled. With that, he fired a massive volley from the pivoting weapons on the vehicle and Darth Malak yelled for a retreat: Even he couldn't stop thousands of shots heading for him at once, and at practically point blank ranges. The Executioner advanced, deflecting any Force pulses Malak tried to send his way.

Evra took the opportunity and began making his way to the tunnel while the Mandalorian held Malak off.

Evra breathed a sigh of relief as he finally managed to reach surgery. Much of the equipment lay damaged, and not only was most of the medical staff dead, Evra could see that one had his head torn open. There was nothing inside the skull.

Evra grew sick as he remembered.

C'bal was busily cutting away at the back of Bastila's head with a surgical laser, sweating as he finally removed a piece of her skull.

Evra spotted Tul-Pa leaning against a computer console-along with the entire detail that had been Bastila's bodyguard lying dead a few feet away, their light sabers sliced in half.

Evra stared. "Why'd you slice the light sabers apart?"

"Trust, me, it was the smart move. Sniper light saber hilts...aren't normal. They...do things if you don't destroy them also," Tul-Pa explained cryptically.

"Will you guys shut up?" C'bal hissed, working feverishly as he picked up a small silvery device with a pair of tongs and placed it gently into the recesses of Bastila's head.

The device sprouted small, wire thin legs and shifted deeper into her brain to take root.

"Done," C'bal breathed in relief. "Now we just have to sow her back up and get us the hell out of here-"

A massive rumble made the unconscious Bastila fly off the specially prepared operating table she was laying on.

"Quick! Get her up! GET HER UP!" Evra yelled, all three lifted her at the same time but a another large rumble caused them to drop her. The piece of skull C'ball removed went skittering to the floor in the chaos.

Carra crashed through the ceiling, using a Sith Stalker as a shock absorber for her feet. The impact killed the Stalker instantly.

"Hey, guys, how's Bas-OH NO!" Carra yelled.

"You got snow on her brain!" C'bal sputtered, panicking, plucking a small chunk of ice from the exposed part of Bastila's brain. "Quick we have to get her back on the table!"

The four gathered Bastila up...only for another massive quaking from the weapons firing overhead to cause them to drop her. Again.

C'bal railed angrily against the war being fought above their heads. "Will you stop that?!" he raged, shaking his fist at the ceiling.

"Chill, C'bal, let's just try again," Carra placated.

C'bal sighed and the four lifted Bastila up. After waiting a moment for a rumble, they breathed a sigh of relief as they gently placed her on the operating table. Carra used the Force to reducing the swelling and removing any foreign particulates that the comatose Jedi had been exposed to. Carra also found the piece of skull next to her boot and used the Force to scour it clean also before handing it back to C'bal, who immediately set to work reintegrating it back into Bastila's head with his tools.

When he was finished he sighed in relief.

"That should do it. Now we just need to get her out of an active warzone," he quipped bitterly.

"I saw a speeder when I arrived here. We should-wait a minute, did you feel that?" Tul-Pa asked.

All four turned to a position behind them.

One of the light saber hilts was floating in mid-air. One Tul-Pa had failed to damage.

To the surprise of all but Tul-Pa, a voice emanated from it.

"STATUS: HOST ORGANISM TERMINATED. MISSION: SAFEGUARD BASTILA SHAN AT ALL COSTS. ACQUIRING TEMPORARY HOST."

The light saber flung itself at C'bal, hurling him back on impact as tiny mechanical tentacles sprung from hidden recesses in the hilts casing, coiling around C'bal's left hand as the rest of the team frantically tried to remove the device.

"UNSATISFACTORY HOST: INCOMPATIBLE NERVOUS SYSTEM. GENETIC IRREGULARITIES. SEEKING NEW HOST..."

The light saber detached itself from C'bal's hand and flung itself into Evra's.

Evra felt a drill-like pain in the back of his skull as he collapsed, everywhere going numb as his team focused on removing it from his hands now.

He heard the voice in his skull.

"NEGATIVE. UNSATISFACTORY MIDICHLORAL COUNT. BELOW STANDARD FORCE USER RATE. SEEKING NEW HOST..."

It detached itself from him flying towards Tul-Pa. She struggled with it mightily, backing away from the rest of the group.

"NEGATIVE. HOST HAS NO NERVOUS SYSTEM. PRODUCT OF GOLEM TECHNIQUES. SEEKING NEW HOST..."

It tried to escape Tul-Pa's grasp, but she held on defiantly, liquefying part of her torso and slamming it into the recesses, sealing it inside her before it could escape. The struggling device bulged underneath the surface of her abdomen, trying to escape her body. She tried breaking it down from the inside to no avail.

Finally, realizing she would not be able to hold it much longer she looked desperately towards Carra.

"Blondie! Light saber! Now!"

Carra swooped in, activating a verdant blade into Tul-Pa's stomach. She felt the machine melt neatly into two pieces as Tul-Pa winced.

Carra shut the blade off while it still impaled her team mate. Tul-Pa hissed a bit in pain as it shut off, small black flecks of her dropping to the snow-covered floor, hissing as they slowly turned into a clay-like material.

"Thanks for being so slow about it!" Tul-Pa snapped.

Carra rolled her eyes. "Oh my, how terribly thoughtless of me," she replied in a dull monotone. "Had to get the blade out somehow."

Tul-Pa snorted and reliquified her torso, retrieving the two halves of the living light saber. She tossed them at Evra. "Souvenir," she said, the light saber wound in her stomach disappearing.

"Huh, so you CAN be hurt," Evra remarked, getting up and dusting himself off.

"Never said I couldn't be, Family Man," she replied sourly, sulfur eyes raking him over. "Get me around enough thermal detonators and I'll go down just like anybody else. Don't go telling Bucket Head that, though, wouldn't want him to get any ideas."

"Noted," Evra replied. "You okay though?"

Tul-Pa raised an eyebrow. "Fine," she replied, seemingly unsure as to why he asked.

"Thanks for taking one for the team like that," he continued. "That's twice you've bailed us out."

Tul-Pa went silent, considering his praise. "Whatever, Family Man," she replied sarcastically.

"Are you two done?!" C'bal pressed, snapping at them in his typically oily tone. "We have to leave!"

"There's a snow speeder in the Hanger. We just have to reach it and call for an extraction," Tul-Pa supplied. "Should be easy."

Evra's com-link buzzed. It was Carth.

"All republic forces pull back! Canopy Removal is in effect, I repeat, CANOPY REMOVAL IS IN EFFECT!" he yelled over the com-link as Evra paled slightly.

"What's Canopy Removal?" C'bal asked.

"Their gonna scour the surface with chemical weapons," Evra said. "We have ten minutes to get out of here."

The four rushed through the cramped tunnels with C'bal covering their six with a pistol.

"How do you know they're gonna use chemical weapons?" Tul-Pa asked.

"They did it on Dxun! I was there! Killed everyone in my whole platoon!" Evra answered. "Turned 'em to goo! Revan wouldn't use them afterwards!"

They reached the hangar bay and spotted the Executioner in his stolen Walker gunning down the last of of another Sith Commando squad.

"Hey guys! You REALLY gotta try this thing! I haven't had this much fun since Ares 3!" the Executioner guffawed. "Malak said he'd be back, so I called his mother a whore. What did you guys do?"

"Ex! Get out of that thing! The Republic's gonna hit this entire area with chemical weapons!" Evra barked.

"Ah. Prudent of them," the Executioner deactivated the Force field around his cockpit.

"We got an extraction?"

"I signalled for it two minutes ago. The shuttle they sent will be a kilometer north of the entrance to the base. We should-"

A blast from overhead startled the team.

A swarm of Sith Stalkers poured through the opening in the ceiling, blocking their way out of the base. More poured in from the hole in the wall that Malak's team had punched through.

The team formed a protective circle around the unconscious Bastila. Carra was the first to activate her blade, it's brilliant green in contrast to the blood red from the rest of her team.

The Stalkers seemed slightly taken aback by all this before they charged.

The next few minutes of the team's life were a cacophony of insanity, marked by bloodshed and cursing and yelling. Evra was the stubborn defender, barely blocking strikes from the cybernetic assassins, The Executioner was a force of chaos, spinning his double-saber wildly, laughing madly. C'bal used the knowledge he had acquired from a previous stalker whose brain he had eaten to cut a bloody swath through their ranks, using their own tactics against them. Tul-Pa was content to keep enemies at a distance with her light saber lance, occasionally surprising one by morphing her arm into a long black spike and impaling them through the skull.

Carra though...Carra was all power. Carra struck with a grace and a rage that years of cribbing off of Revan's memories had imparted, elegantly cutting down the Stalkers that attacked, until with a shout of exertion she unleashed a devastating Force pulse in front of her at the remaining stalkers.

The pulse destroyed the whole area. Star fighters still in their landing area were thrown all the way to the other side of the room. Machinery shattered from the pulse, and any remaining tunnels filled with debris like clogged arteries to a heart.

The Stalkers received the worst of it, however. Any Stalker that was in front of the pulse immediately dissolved to ash from the power slamming into them.

The rest of the Stalkers, having finally sensed that the day would not be theirs, tried to flee, only to be electrocuted by the combined Force lightning from the rest of the team.

"How much time did we lose?" Carra asked.

"Six minutes. We leave in the next thirty seconds or we don't leave at all," Evra barked.

Tul-Pa spotted the snowspeeder. It was a large and boxy, with some damage on one side and part of it's roof exposed, but it would do.

Not wasting a second, the team lifted Bastila and unceremoniously hauled her into the back seat, careful not to cause any more injury than they already had. C'bal crammed into the back while Carra and the Executioner got into the front. But they couldn't all fit in the vehicle. One would have to stay behind and find another way off.

For Evra, a choice between him or his team was no choice at all.

"Tul-Pa, you get in the back. I'm gonna find another way off this hell hole," Evra grunted.

"Just so you know, Family Man, there are no such thing as heroics," Tul-Pa snorted derisively.

"Not about heroics. It's about leadership," Evra replied. "Go. Now."

The pair stared at one another for a moment, knowing full well that Evra might have just assured his own demise.

Then, in a move that genuinely surprised him, Tul-Pa quickly kissed him on the cheek while the others backs were turned, still trying to hotwire the speeder so it would start.

"For luck," she explained, cramming herself into the back just as the speeder started up.

Evra watched the speeder fly off across the raging battlefield.

Taking a moment to remind himself that he was married, Evra quickly tried to think about how he was going to survive.

Then he spotted the walker the Executioner had been using. Chemical weapons were a vicious thing but he had yet to encounter a chemical weapon that would get past even the simplest force-field.

Running to it, he climbed into the cockpit, switching it on and began sweating as he heard the whine of the bombers overhead.

He tried to fiddle with the controls as he tried to get the thing to move, but it had been years since he had piloted a vehicle like this: he was lucky simply finding the switch that turned the force field on.

A blast from overhead caused the ceiling to cave in right on top of him. The last thing he saw was a wall of white roaring down on him and his stolen transport.

He awoke sometime later, the snow and rubble caking on top of the force field. It was very cold.

Evra dared not shut off his miraculously still functioning shield. There was no telling how much rubble was on top of him. He tried to extend his perceptions and to his relief found it was only a foot of snow, the real heavy stuff had by stroke of dumb luck simply managed a glancing blow. He also had a broken right arm, snapped just below the elbow.

He realized he needed to leave or he would die in this heavily armed coffin.

He shut off the force field, the snow dropped on him and for an instant everything went cold and he couldn't breathe. He punched his way upward with his left arm and dragged himself out of the walker.

The hangar around him was wrecked beyond repair, and the hole in the ceiling gave view to a dark grey sky.

Evra snorted. "Lucky me," he spat angrily. "I'm never coming to this frakking planet again if I can help it." He hoisted his carbine out of the cockpit and proceeded to look for a way out. He wasn't worried any longer about the chemical dispersal. The republic preferred to have them be effective in open air for up to twenty minutes before degrading, so they could move troops back in quickly. If they had still been active he would have been dead within seconds.

Evra slung his carbine over his shoulder, pulling out his pistol as he spotted the hole Malak's team had used to breach through the base. he exited out of it.

The blizzard had stopped, but that was hardly something to be thankful for.

The dead littered the battlefield. Republic and Sith alike lay at one another's feet, twisted in unnatural positions from the fighting or from the weapon the Republic had deployed. On the republic bodies he could see evidence of extreme necrosis. Whatever it was, it must have been horrific.

An erie silence covered everything. He couldn't hear the wind howling, didn't even feel a breeze.

Evra hadn't seen stuff like this since Dxun, and it was still just as terrible.

He averted his eyes, repulsing the urge to vomit.

"We're all going to pay for what we've done," he said out loud.

Just then, the whine of a shuttle engine pierced the silence, reminding him that someone else was alive.

It was the stealth shuttle. It set down a few yards away from him. Tul-Pa was on the other side of the shuttle hatch when it popped open.

"Need a lift?" she asked with her trademark smirk. The rest of his team was waiting inside also. "Hey boss!" C'bal exclaimed happily, waving at him.

Evra rolled his eyes, still fighting his disgust at what had happened here as he climbed aboard.

"It seems my little gesture wasn't misplaced," Tul-Pa said.

"Guess not," Evra replied, still remembering the kiss, how unexpectedly warm it had been.

He was still married, though.

"Let's get the frak outta here," he grunted, taking a seat next to Carra, who immediately began working on his arm with her powers.

Tul-Pa saw fit to sit a little closer to him as the shuttle sped off...


	9. An Evening in Darth Revan's Castle

Six days after Hoth Mission.

Evra shot awake in a cold sweat. He immediately reached for the glass of water he kept on his nightstand. He reached for the small glow panel on the wall and it immediately filled the room with a soft yellow light.

He swallowed the water in one gulp, flood his parched throat with some mild relief. His heart was still going a million kilometers a second though.

He had dreamt he was on Malachor again. But the dream didn't make any sense. He took missions in the dream that he was absolutely certain that he had never taken in real life. And it always ended with him being reached for by scores of dark hands...

Evra wanted to just put everything on hold, Maybe contact his family, let them know how he was, but in the state of anxiety the dream had left him in, he was lucky his hands weren't trembling. Besides, he didn't even think his wife would understand.

All thoughts of his wife vanished immediately as soon as he spotted a familiar pool of darkness seep in underneath his door, the mass twisting and reshaping itself into Tul-Pa.

"Bad dreams, Family Man?" she asked, fixing her yellow eyes on him.

"What are you here for?" he asked, breathing heavily, running his hands through the patch of brown fuzz that was slowly growing longer on his head.

"Bluefin got another job for us. He told me to get you to the briefing room. I was hoping to surprise you, but I see you are already up," she answered.

"What? Hoping to scare me awake?"

"Not exactly," Tul-Pa answered, sauntering over to him. Evra gulped and tried not to focus on the scant animal hides she was so fond of wearing.

"What were you gonna do then?" he asked slowly as she sat down next to him, one dark skinned leg crossed over the other.

"Nothing unpleasant," she answered. "Maybe do that special tounge trick you like."

"That actually creeps me out," he said immediately, yet somehow unsure as to whether he was actually telling the truth or not.

"Heh. You know, Family Man, I had my doubts about you, but you are actually pretty solid for your run-of-the-mill semi-Sith types. And you're a lot more interesting then Jolee ever was."

"Who's Jolee?"

"Jolee Bindo. Loser I knew a long time ago. Annoying Jedi hypocrite. Believed in the order yet not enough to listen to the 'no love' clause."

"What, you were his girlfriend or something?" Evra asked.

"I was his wife. Or rather, his wife's replacement."

Evra stared at her. "Replacement? What, did she die?"

"Yeah, in a duel with a very nasty man covered in bandages, aided by a Jedi with a bad haircut. Pray we don't run into them. They're still around."

"Why'd they kill her?"

"Her story is very similar to a great deal of other losers you tend to hear about. She got it into her thick skull that Jolee was weak for not defying the code openly to be with her, and felt that his methods held back her full potential. You ask me, potential is so overrated among Force Sensitives. She decided that some Sith Lord wannabe could give her more so she went to him, hoping the Dark Side would finally give her the power to destroy the only thing in the way of her life with Jolee. Jolee had other ideas, so he sent his two best buds to kill her. In truth, she had it coming, as at the time of her death she was one of the most vicious and hated of the Jedi Killers that wannabe had at his command."

"So where do you come in?"

"Jolee went on a guilt trip after his buddies come back from Yavin Four with her light saber lance as proof of the deed. Apparently, the rest of her had been left to slowly burn on a lava bank. He despaired, and looked for a way to undo his sin, and came across a hermit who could use the Force to bring forth life from inanimate materials. He took his wife's lance and begged the hermit to make a being based on his wife. The hermit agreed and gathered clay and the dark side of the force into one package. It took the hermit eight days, without sleep, to fashion my body and persona based on the impressions he got from the lance weapon. That was the mistake. Because the lance was taken from his wife during her final days, I turned out much more like the original then was intended. And the fool, instead of just thanking his lucky stars that his sin could be at least somewhat forgotten as long as I was around, washed his hands of me after a short time and exiled himself to some planet out in the rim," she finished, frowning.

"Damn. Quite a story. Out of curiosity, what was the wife's name?"

"Nayama Bindo," Tul-Pa answered. "But forget that bimbo. You've gotten me off subject."

"I didn't think we were on a subject."

"I think we were," she remarked slyly. "Tell me, when was the last time you tried to talk to your wife?"

"Not recently, but rest assured, I love her very much."

"Oh? What's her favorite color?"

Evra's mind drew blank.

"When was the last time you gave even thirty seconds of thought towards her."

"Just now."

"As soon as I walk into the room. How convenient," she smirked, her yellow eyes focused like a predator.

"I'm not going to cheat on my wife, Tul-Pa."

"Cheat? Who said anything about cheating? And just who would you be cheating with? Me, perhaps? My my, Family Man sure has a dirty mind," she laughed.

She scooted closer to him and Evra found himself staring at the well defined muscles on her abdomen out of the corner of his eye. Her hand crept across his leg. Evra did nothing to dissuade her. He felt his face getting warm.

"Not like anybody will know, Family Man," she said with a raised eyebrow.

She leaned closer and Evra braced himself...

The door to his room picked precisely the wrong-or right, depending on one's disposition to the situation-moment to enter.

"Hey, Boss, Bluefin's wondering where you were at-" C'bal said as he entered. He stopped immediately when he caught sight of them.

Her feral yellow eyes snapped toward him. "Freak show, if you have any idea what's good for you, you'll leave. Now."

C'bal turned around and parted without another word.

Tul-Pa turned her eyes back to Evra.

"Perhaps later I can finish wrecking your marriage vows," she suggested casually. She rose. "Get up before we get in trouble."

Evra said nothing as she departed, but quietly took his glass, filled it, splashed himself across the face with it, swore a few choice curses, filled it again, and repeated the process a few more times and wished he still had his wedding ring.

Bluefin was waiting for Evra when he entered the briefing room, clad in his black jumpsuit.

"Glad you could take time out of your busy schedule to join us, Evra," Bluefin remarked, the sarcasm in his tone nipping at Evra's ears.

"Sorry, Colonel. Won't happen again," Evra answered, trying not to fidget. He took a seat across the table from Tul-Pa, and tried not to stare at her.

"Okay, here goes," Bluefin began, switching on the holographic projector. "You all did wonderful during your last mission on the Hoth system. And Darth Revan suffered a severe setback. We made her look bad. Very bad. As a result of her failure on Hoth, she is organizing a get-together for all of her top aides and military personnel in her castle on her home turf of Serreno. Remember Dustil, Evra? He's attending the function with his master, Yuthura and he's opened up an interesting opportunity for us. A great deal of information is locked away in that castle. Pointedly, information regarding her finances."

"We're going to try and steal her credits, aren't we?" Carra asked.

"Cracking finances is my favorite sort of thing in my line of work," C'bal grinned.

"Yeah. We're going to steal as much as we can. Account numbers, anything we can get her hands on. Then we're going to plant a virus in her systems that will play havoc with her databases, netting us even more information. It'll also smear her reputation even more," Bluefin added.

"What's our infiltration plan?" Evra asked.

"You'll be attending the party as guests. C'bal will come in particularly useful here. He's going to be impersonating the great General Derred of the Sith Research and Development Devision. You will get in as his body guards. Dustil provided us with some crucial information regarding Derreds whereabouts. I've left the details on these data pads here," Bluefin finished, passing out a data pad to each team member. "Given what I've seen so far, I have every faith you'll accomplish your task, team, but if things go wrong...don't hesitate to scrub the mission. We'll be leaving for Serreno in two hours. That's all, dismissed."

Serreno, Three hours later.

The Stealth Shuttle landed on a grassy, open field in the starry night time. The grass seemed to go on forever, cut off only by a small path meant for speeders to go through.

"You know, for some reason, I always get picked as the 'Mandalorian Bodyguard' in these scenarios. Ain't that weird?" the Executioner asked as he checked his heavy pistol, the moonlight dancing off the blue Mandalorian Armor he had been provided to disguise himself for the mission.

"Gee, you think it could be something you're wearing?" C'bal asked as he used a mirror to check his sharp, pointy teeth.

"I don't know. I never thought I looked like Bodyguard material. I MAKE the bodies. I don't guard them. It seems stereotypes will never go out of style," the Executioner sighed ruefully.

"Just don't speak and you will be alright," Evra ordered, cocking his carbine.

"Evra, do I really have to wear this?" Carra asked, gesturing towards the stunning white silk dress she had been wearing. It hugged every curve, every muscle, displaying her ample bosom, yet teasing enough that it could not reveal every secret. "It makes my butt look big."

"And you think that's a problem?" the Executioner asked. "It's what your mother gave you."

"It's no surprise YOU wouldn't see it as a problem," Carra scoffed. "It feels like it's sticking out."

"I like big butts, and I cannot lie," the Executioner replied defensively.

"Quiet everybody," Evra hissed, spotting an ornate luxury speeder in the distance, it's lily white frame reflecting the moon on its surface. The windows were tinted. Following close by appeared to be some type of food transport.

"Tul-Pa, you know what to do," Evra said.

"This is demeaning," she snapped.

General Derred had been smoothing over his blue-black hair and checking his beige face and hook-nose out in a hand mirror when his driver signaled that something was on the road.

Derred rubbed his round chin and stared out, mouth nearly dropping.

It was an extremely beautiful, dark skinned woman lying unconscious on the road, wearing little else but animal hides. He motioned for his five man squad that followed him in the stretch speeder wherever he went to follow him.

He smoothed his white dress uniform and checked the pinned medals to his chest, then stepped closer to the body on the road. She didn't seem to be breathing.

"Check her," he ordered in his clipped Correllian accent.

One Sith trooper went over, perhaps a little more eager than he should have been.

The woman's left arm transformed into a terrible black tendril that swiped the Sith trooper aside mightily. The rest of the woman dissolved into an oily shadow as his men opened fire and slithered over to Derred, reforming into the woman with fierce yellow eyes, she got her arms around him in a death grip.

"Drop your weapons or he dies," she ordered coldly, tightening her grip on Derred.

The men hesitated and then finally placed them on the ground and kicked them away.

She smirked. "Good, Good. Kill them."

The five man squad suddenly found themselves choking as the Executioner appeared from behind a small boulder, throttling the five Sith with his mind. Tul-Pa smirked again when she heard their necks breaking.

Derred turned around just in time to watch a man in a black jumpsuit with short cut hair and a grim expression shooting the Sith trooper in the transport behind him.

"General Derred, I presume," Evra asked the frightened man.

"You'll get nothing out of me, scum. I don't know who hired you but I urge you to rethink your mission. I am very powerful," Derred replied.

Evra snorted at the false bravado before violently yanking Derred up and dragging him to his stretch speeder. He tossed him into the back seat.

"My friend C'bal here would like to have a meeting of the minds," Evra said before departing, closing the vehicle hatch.

Derred turned and saw C'bal staring at him with a perky smile. A perky, pointy-toothed smile.

"Tell me, you know how valuable it is to grow dendrites to somebody like me?" C'bal asked.

Evra could here Derred shrieking as the Speeder began to rock back and forth. He turned and saw blood dripping out of the bottom of the speeder hatch in obscene amounts.

The team finished burying the now literally brainless General in a hastily prepared ditch, along with the rest of his men. Evra finished strapping on the Sith Armor and Carra had used the Force to pull every drop of blood she could from the speeder, leaving the amount as a coagulated heap on the side of the road.

C'bal, now in the form of General Derred, straightened the medals to his chest and gave a lob sided grin.

"This guy used to be a real brave sort, but years living the good life dulled him at the end," he noted out loud, He held out his arm to Carra.

"Shall we?" he asked.

Carra rolled her eyes and hooked her arm around his, getting into the back of the speeder. The Executioner got into the front in the pilot's seat. Evra rode in front also while Tul-Pa was assigned to drive the food transport, which had turned out to be filled with types of shrimp and bottles of wine.

"It's the high life for us, boys," the Executioner laughed as he started the vehicle.

Castle Serreno, one hour before midnight.

Darth Revan winced as she stared at herself wearing the dark red dress in the mirror. Anything would have been better than wearing something so lacking in modesty. Even Jedi robes would have been preferable to the large slit in the dress exposing her right leg, or the low-cut of the top that gave too much cleavage. Malak didn't seem to mind though. Then again, Malak didn't have to wear it. He had also wisely chosen an all white version of the rigid armor he normally wore.

"It doesn't look that bad, Revan," he said, trying to be supportive. He put his arms around her shoulder, and, by instinct, mistakenly tried to kiss her on the shoulder, only for the cold metal of his prosthetic jaw to bite into her shoulder blade and remind him once more of how diminished he was. She pulled away and his head hung downward a bit.

"It makes my butt look big," she said, trying to distract herself from how she had hurt him. The fact that their son still had not been found also didn't help either of their dispositions.

"I don't know if we're in the shape to be throwing a damn party to be honest," Malak spoke up again, the gloom in his voice overcoming the mechanical synthesizer. "Where could he have run off to?"

"I'm starting to get the feeling that our boy will only turn up again when he wants too," Revan sighed. She turned back to Malak, who was injecting his daily Anti-Depressant into his left arm with a fresh hypo. "How could we have screwed up so badly?"

"We should have checked the damn cellar," Malak replied, eyes glazing slightly as the drug perked him up. "We just have to send our best out. Maybe Atton can locate him."

"Not in his condition," Revan spoke, shooting down the suggestion. They had found Rand two days ago nearly dead in his escape pod, having apparently survived a massive ambush by the Rebel Alliance. "Besides, I'm not going to expose the kid to that sort of person. Not until he's older. Rand...he's meant for very specific things."

"Yeah. Now that I think about it, Rand 'is' a bit of a prick. I never saw anybody who enjoys hurting Jedi as much as he does. Even I don't derive that much of a kick from it. And you know me, Revan, I can be a real bastard to a Jedi when I want to be. But Rand...guy turns it into an art form."

"He has his uses. In a way, that's sort of the tragic thing about the man; That's all he'll ever have."

Malak sat down in a wicker seat in the dressing room. "I need more doses of this stuff you have me shooting up with."

"You're already up to three a day. Take it easy, that stuff is bad for you in high enough doses."

"It takes the edge off."

"So would talking to a psychologist."

"I hate head doctors. All they tell me was that it wasn't MY fault my jaw got blown off, when it clearly was."

"You have to stop focusing on your injury. Self pity will weaken you."

"You don't have to take food intravenously," Malak replied. "You don't have to look into people's eyes and see revulsion."

"A great deal of people hate us, Malak. That's a given."

"They hate you because you've upset the status quo. They hate you because you're going to force them to clean up their act and work together. They hate me because this damn prosthetic hides the horror show underneath. I mean, who BUILT this thing anyway? The design's back-asswards. Feels like you've got sheet metal wrapped around your head. Damn collar is itchy too."

"Get it replaced then. You have the money."

"Like I'm going to go under for a few hours while some doctor I don't know operates on me," Malak snapped, the frustration squeezing his eyes to a hard glare. "I'll probably have several kinds of poisons from that bastard Corle before it was over."

"Then why are you complaining?!" she asked, turning around.

"I have to have someone to complain too!" Malak yelled, standing up. "You know Revan, you used to be such a good listener but nowadays I don't think you hear half of what I say."

Revan rubbed the eyelids of her paper-white face, her red eyes moving underneath.

"I'm sorry. Ever since this thing with Hoth, I've been a little on edge. I have to throw this damn party and I just...forget it. Sorry."

"Eh, maybe I've been complaining more than usual," Malak replied, trying to extend an olive branch. Most days they came within inches of having a verbal spout only to shy away from it at the last moment. But it was getting harder and harder to let matters drop.

Malak looked out the window of the castle dressing room. The transports for the guests were arriving.

"Let's try not to fight tonight," Malak suggested.

"I gotta ask, C'bal, how's it taste?" The Executioner asked as he piloted the speeder to the tall spires of the castle, slowly coming into sight. It seemed to have been deliberately modeled after the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, likely a joke on Revan's part.

"How's what taste?" C'bal asked, checking his appearance as General Derred with a small mirror.

"The brains. How do they taste when you eat them?"

C'bal scowled at him. "You really wanna know, Mando?"

"It's a simple question."

"Well...you ever eat Alderaanian chocolate?"

"Yeah. Tasty."

"Good. Now picture the exact opposite of how that tastes, only it tastes ten times worse than that."

"Ugh. How can you eat it then?"

"I just power through it. Back in the old days, I used wine to wash the taste out."

"What wine works best for getting the taste of brain out?" Evra asked.

"Corellian Chianti if you can get it. Rodian fava beans also work well, though I have never been able to figure out why."

"They sound like side dishes," the Executioner suggested.

"They aren't," C'bal snapped.

"I mean, it's just ODD you happen to pick a good wine and a side dish to go along with it. Or do you use the wine like mouth gargle?"

"That's exactly what I did," C'bal replied quickly.

"Guys, we're here. Belly of the beast," Evra announced as they finally stopped at the entrance of the gravel path leading to the castle along with a whole mess of other transports on the pathway, their occupants having already departed. Revan had wisely placed her castle in the grasslands of her planet, away from the bustle of the cities and wine fields that dotted the planet. It would also make it harder to escape if they were exposed. There would be literally nowhere to hide.

A lone figure in a Sith Academy uniform approached the vehicle. He must have been waiting for them. It was Dustil.

Evra got out of the speeder first.

"Did you know this junkyard slave..." Evra began the code-phrase.

"...isn't even old enough to shave?" Dustil finished, letting out a sigh of relief. "Hey Evra. Been well?"

"About as well as can be expected," Evra replied, relieved he had been here to meet him just like the mission detailed. "Did your friend manage to copy the late General Derred?"

"He did," Evra answered, motioning for C'bal to come out of the vehicle, who stepped out and was immediately followed by Carra.

Dustil's eyes went wide when he saw Carra. He had to actively concentrate to keeps his mouth from dropping open at her beauty.

"Daaaammmnnn, you've moved up in the world," Dustil said to Evra.

"You have a plan for making sure we don't get caught executing our mission?" Evra quietly demanded to know.

"What? Oh, yeah. I fed a virus into the security systems that's going to be triggered at my command. I got to be careful, though, or Revan will know something's up. Your lady friend here could go a long way towards helping distract the guests. Even the Sith Lords here won't be able to keep their focus with her around."

"Sounds like a plan," Tul-Pa said as she got out of the food truck. "How do we explain my presence though?"

"Uh, heh heh, Derred had a taste for the outlandish," C'bal chuckled nervously. "Tul-Pa, if I tell you what Derred originally had planned for this evening, do you promise not to do anything drastic, like kill me or something?"

"I swear, I'm going to frakking murder C'bal for this," Tul-Pa growled.

"Only C'bal would suggest using someone as a snack table. Swear, that guy has food on the brain WAY too much. Heh, double joke," the Executioner laughed as he pushed the repulsor-lift cart.

"Frak you and you stupid jokes, Bucket-Head!" Tul-Pa snarled.

"You look so delicious, I could just EAT you up right about now," the Mandalorian joked again. He held out his hand to Evra for a high-five. Evra didn't return it.

"Aw, c'mon, that's comedic gold coming from a Mandalorian!" the Executioner half heartedly protested.

Tul-Pa was also essential to the plan now. Effectively she was a shadowy bomb placed right in the heart of the dinner engagement-going in as a living snack table. Little cheese and cracker snacks had been laid out carefully all over her body as she lay on a bed of leaves, lying on the the uncomfortable metal cart. Going in as anything else except an erotic diversion would have aroused too much suspicion on C'bal. At least, that was what C'bal claimed. Evra himself had severe misgivings about the idea, but he had a mission to complete. But that didn't excuse the fact that Tul-Pa was in a humiliating position. A humiliating, unforgivably sexist position.

"Keep your eyes closed so they don't see the sulfur," Evra told her.

"Whatever," she snapped before going silent as they entered the castle floor.

The ground floor of the castle entrance was covered in cream-colored tile, with a Chandelier covered in expensive gem-stones and precious metals unleashing a multitude of twinkling colors on the floor below it. The guests milled about waiting for the presence of the Dark Lord. Evra took a quick look. All of Revan's top staff were here, Sith Lords, Admirals, everybody who had a vested interest in having her succeed.

Dustil was following close behind them. He spotted Yuthura, who looked stunning in her Academy wear and went back to her side. Evra suppressed a sneer, which he feared could be somehow seen even through the tinted trooper faceplate he was wearing.

Yuthura took note of 'General Derred' and walked over to him. "General. A pleasure," she said silkily, holding out her hand.

"Nice to meet you," C'bal said quickly, glad his disguise couldn't reveal how terribly nervous he was.

"I followed your work on hyper drive engines. Very revelatory," Yuthura mentioned.

C'bal quickly went through Derred's memories. Yes...engines. It seemed that when Derred wasn't having dalliances with every woman he could get his hands on he did seem to do actual research, and he was quite good at it.

"Yep, Just you watch, My engines will someday make point six at light speed," he replied quickly, relaxing as he got used to the role of Derred a bit more. "If you'll excuse me, Dark Master, I have some friends I want to catch up with,"

Yuthura nodded. "Of course, don't let me keep you. Come Dustil, we ourselves have some business to attend to..."

All five of the team watched Dustil suppress a gulp as he followed.

"Ah, Derred, old man!"

C'bal turned and spotted Admiral Saul Karath, dressed in a white version of his normal uniform.

"Saul, been a long time! How you been?' C'bal greeted him jovially, carefully replacating the emotion the real Derred would have felt.

Saul strode up to the five. "I could be better, what with Ol'Metalface and Glass Jaw running the show."

C'bal was privately amazed that Saul dared to talk about Revan and Malak in such a manner in the open. There were some rumors that Saul was going loopy, but the real Derred would have refused to believe such a thing.

Saul eyed Tul-Pa. "I see your talent for outlandishness hasn't died. Oh well, I'm at a party." Saul dantily removed a cracker with cheese from the woman's abdomen.

C'bal felt Tul-Pa suppress the urge to kill.

"And who is this?" Saul asked, taking the hand of Carra and planting a small peck on the back of it.

"My, uh...escort."

Carra used the Force to discreetly jab C'bal in the ribs.

"I uh, mean my girlfriend. Yes, my girlfriend. That is what she is. My girlfriend," C'bal corrected himself quickly.

"You sure know how to pick 'em Derred. Good luck. Revan and Glass Jaw will be down here in a minute, so put your gameface on. She's prepared one of those annoying-as-hell speeches she's so ludicrously fond of," Saul finished with a grimace before walking away.

No sooner did he finish than Darth Revan strode down a spiral staircase in a stunning red dress followed by Malak dressed in white armor.

"That schutta!" Carra hissed angrily. "She stole my look!"

"Don't you mean you stole hers?" C'bal asked.

"Oh. Yeah. Sorry," Carra answered, shaking her head out of embarrassment.

"Let's try and blend in," Evra whispered quietly.


	10. Shaken, not stirred

"And so then I tell the Sith I like it shaken, not stirred!" C'bal joked as he caused a couple of the admirals to guffaw. This all immediately stopped when they caught sight of Revan and Malak striding towards them.

Evra's eyebrow raised at the sight of Revan. This was the first time he had ever seen her up close and personal. She had very pale, almost papery-white skin, and short hair the color of platinum. He would have mistook her for an Echani had it not been for the ruby-red irises.

He snorted at his own stupidity. She didn't look a thing like the actress the Republic had apparently hired to pass herself off as Revan during the wars. It seemed Revan's unique look was not exactly conducive to public perception of heroes.

She wasn't ugly. Her features were elegant, her skin smooth looking. She had a million-credit smile, and the eyes could draw you in. She definitely wasn't ugly. She was just too different looking for most people's taste.

Underneath the safety of the Sith trooper helmet's faceplate, Evra grimaced at the sight of Malak. This hulking club of a man had gotten more of his own soldiers killed during the war with the Mando's than any other field commander during the war, even more than Valia Renn, the Butcher of Barab. Sure, at the start of it, most of it had been a case of "No other choice." At the end of the wars though, it had been pure recklessness.

"General Derred. A pleasure," Revan said in that famously seductive low voice holding out her hand.

Evra watched C'bal get his act together.

"Lord Revan. An honor to be in your presence," C'bal replied, smiling with Derred's face. He also nodded to Malak. "And Lord Malak, you still owe me about four thousand credits."

"Four thousand? For what?" Revan asked, turning to her apprentice.

"Uh, me and our esteemed general had a wager...at Pazaak."

Revan blinked. "Malak, you're terrible at Pazaak."

"I thought I had a winning hand," Malak replied casually. "Ah well, it's not as though I'm going to pay the man..."

"Actually, yes you are," Revan replied, naked command drowning any false pleasantry between them.

Malak stared at her. Evra was certain that if Malak still had a mouth under that prosthetic, he would be using it to curse her all kind of ways.

Instead, all that he uttered next was a "Yes, my master." that was devoid of any emotion save annoyance.

"Good," Revan replied, turning back to 'Derred'. "General, you'll have your credits from him in two days. You have my word."

"Oh, It's nothing, really-" C'bal protested.

"See? He don't give a damn," Malak chimed. "Guy probably makes absurd amounts of creds."

Revan cut Malak off with a wave of her hand. "In two days, Malak. Or I punish you."

Malak somehow managed a sigh. "Yes, My master."

C'bal gulped a little as Malak glared at him. Then he noticed the living snack table that was Tul-Pa. His mood brightened as he saw the dark skinned woman covered in crackers and cheese.

"I see you have not lost your touch for the outlandish, Derred," he said reaching for a cracker nestled gently on her navel.

He tried to pop it into his mouth-and was instead dismayed and embarrassed a second later when the snack bounced off the prosthetic and clattered to the floor, breaking.

Evra's entire team and Revan stared at Malak. What was left of his face went slightly pink.

"Damn," was all he said before quickly walking away. He brushed past Saul on his way upstairs.

"Tried to eat something again, didn't you?" Karath smirked.

"Don't start with me, Karath," Malak growled as best as his tin voice allowed. He stormed up the stairs.

"If only I could read your lips as well as you can read mine," Karath replied. "Shall I get you a drink?"

Malak said nothing as he disappeared up the grand stair case of the castle.

The party was already underway for half an hour, and already Evra was getting impatient. Where the hell was Dustil? When was this "Distraction" going to happen. He turned around and checked his team over. The Executioner was silently by C'bal wherever he went and Carra was drawing a ridiculous number of stairs. Everybody found an excuse to pluck a snack off of Tul-Pa and Evra was just standing by the grand, electrum-plated door leading out, doing his best to act like some two-bit guard, ignoring the twinkling little lights dancing off the chandelier.

It wasn't long before Revan called everybody to follow her upstairs and to the banquet hall. The admirals only barely complied, most of them too distracted by Carra.

Evra was the last to head upstairs. He passed right by Revan.

"Be thankful you aren't me," She mumbled.

"Of course, milord," Evra replied as formally as possible.

When he passed through a series of halls and finally reached the grand hall, he was stunned. The table alone must have set Revan back at least a hundred thousand credits. The food must have set her back a thousand more. All manner of poultry, fish, meats, bread and wine from a hundred different worlds lay spread out on that table.

His stomach grumbled.

Carra had taken a seat at the far end of the table facing the cavernous passages back down to the first floor. when she realized Revan was sitting next to her.

The urge to pull out her lightsaber and cut her head off was something Carra had to actively fight against as Revan nursed a glass of red wine, a bored look on her face.

After all this time...she was finally within striking distance of the Dark Lord. To not be able to do anything about it was agonizing.

Carra snatched a glass of Telosian white wine-now a rare item-and had a sip to calm her nerves.

Unfortunately for Carra, Revan noticed the attempt. "Rough night?"

Carra's head swiveled over to Revan. She heard Revan examining her in that creepy manner she was usually fond of doing.

_How is it possible for someone to be so beautiful they are almost ugly? _She heard Revan think.

"I don't know," Carra blurted out by mistake. She saw Revan's eyebrow raise and quickly covered her response.

"I mean, I don't know if it's a rough night. I-I wouldn't say so. I just don't know anybody here."

"Save for Malak, Saul, and Derred, neither do I. How long have you been with Derred?"

"A month," Carra lied.

"Yeah, that sounds about right," Revan replied monotonously, taking a large sip of her own wine, Correllian Red by the looks of it. "You should be wary. Derred's a womanizer. But I'm frankly amazed he managed to net you. I find his taste's much more lowbrow."

"It's just one date," Carra replied.

"He'll want more. People like him always do." Revan stared at the guests filling themselves up. Carra could feel her despise for each of them welling up.

"I wonder how much these people are really worth keeping around, sometimes. Look at them. Not a care in the galaxy."

"Everybody has their worth," Carra said meekly.

"Sure. Until they don't."

Fighting off the surge of contempt she felt from Revan, Carra managed to ask "How do you know when they have no more worth?"

"When they are of no further use to me," Revan replied coldly. Carra wanted to smack her in the face.

"You have the power, though. Would you be so willing to repeat that if you were in their position?" she asked, careful to keep her tone one of curiosity.

"If I were in their position I'd be doing my damn job, not dallying in whatever scheme I can use to gain more power."

Carra was incredulous. "But isn't that what a Sith Lord does? Scheme to gain more power?"

"Sith Lords don't scheme: We take the power. We employ strategy. Scheming is done for petty ambition. For gaining some meaningless, temporary victory. A Sith Lord's victory is meant to be permanent."

"What about things like morals? Ethics?" Carra asked, the bile in her throat rising.

"Only as useful as it does not hinder you from doing what must be done to secure peace and order in the Galaxy."

"There are many definitions of order," Carra replied as non-combatively as possible.

"How many of them work?" Darth Revan countered. "How many would make people rally?"

"Have you tried any of them?"

"If the Mandalorian wars taught me anything, it is that the only thing people respect is raw power and a willingness to use it."

"It never worked for the other Sith Lords," Carra pointed out innocuously.

Darth Revan turned and smiled that grim smile that haunted Carra's nightmare's since birth.

"I'm not the other Sith Lords," she replied succinctly.

Revan suddenly peered closer into Carra's flawless features.

"There's something...familiar about you," Revan said slowly, squinting as though in recognition. "Have we met before?"

"I'd remember if we had," Carra replied carefully.

Revan blinked and Carra felt the Sith Lord's momentary disquiet slink away.

"Forgive me. I'm terrible with faces. Enjoy the party, whoever you are."

Revan finished her wine and left the table. Carra heard Revan decide in her head to go and see what Malak was up to.

Carra quickly got up and went over to C'bal, who had been nursing a glass of water in a a corner of the room.

"We need to talk," she said tersely to him. "It's time to get to work."

Evra was relieved when he finally caught up to a disheveled looking Dustil coming out of a room in the guest wing he had decided to scout out, a place as lavish as the rest of the castle, with paintings lining the narrow halls and expensive looking marble covering the floor. He was concerned however, when he saw a blaster pistol clenched tightly in his left hand.

"Dustil?" Evra called out as quietly as possible.

Dustil immediately perked up and walked toward him, putting a finger to his lips. He pulled Evra by the shoulder to the stair case he had just come from.

"Where the hell have you been? I've been waiting for forty-five minutes!" Evra asked.

"Sorry. I had business." His tone was devoid of emotion.

Evra once more took in Dustil's disheveled state. His clothes were wrinkled and he looked tired.

"What sorta business?" he asked.

"The kind that keeps me alive," Dustil snapped, eyes flashing with anger.

Then his features softened. "Sorry, this line of work...it can get to you sometimes..."

Evra held up his hand. "I know what you mean. But get it together. I need you now. The longer we're here, the greater my team's chances are of being detected. You ready?"

"Yeah. I got everything set up. Get your security man up here now. Fast. I won't know how long before Revan's security measures try and bring things under control."

"Malak? Malak, where are you?" Revan called out as she ventured quietly into her lavish master bedroom.

She found Malak sitting on the edge of it with a bottle in his hand. A special IV drip and straw was running from the side of the bottle into his throat.

Revan groaned inwardly. Not _again..._

"Oh. Hey," he said glumly.

"I told you to lay off the sauce," she said crossly, voice cold and piercing.

"I'm just having a drink, Revan."

"You have fits when you get drunk,"

Malak turned his hard eyes to her. "Why are you always trying to control me?"

"I'm your Master, Malak. Never forget that you are my apprentice."

"This garbage again..." he trailed off.

"It isn't garbage. Do you even WANT to conquer the Galaxy? Do you even remember what we're doing this for?!" she asked.

Sitting down next to him, she used the Force to snap his head towards her face, not fast enough to break his neck, but enough so that he'd be nursing it in the morning. Suppressing the sharp cry of pain that welled up in him with her will alone, her ruby red eyes stared deeply into his dark brown ones.

"I need you to get it together...and KEEP it together," she hissed. "I have high hopes for you, but with each passing day I grow increasingly convinced that protecting the Galaxy from the real threat can be better done with someone else at my side-father of my child or not."

"You would discard me?" Malak growled, rage welling up in him for the first time in months. Revan drank it in even as she imposed her lesson on her wayward husband/student.

"Not discard...I love you too much to simply kill you. But you would certainly no longer be my apprentice, that's for damn sure. I'd have you stay here, quiet, isolated...alone..._brooding,_" she finished bleakly.

"You will never find another apprentice stronger than me," Malak replied, just short of a roar, clenching his bottle of whiskey.

"Perhaps not, but my next apprentice would be more than capable of standing by my side and ending the threat from the rim, and that is all I ask. You said it yourself... swirling Force is just swirling Force."

"I have stood by your side from the very start. You said we needed to become Sith to save the Galaxy, I went headfirst into the teachings with you. Granted, alot of what the old Sith in their ancient holocrons had to say was kek, but I endured it for your sake. You told me to jump, I asked how high. You told me to kill, I asked how many. Don't you dare say I haven't been a faithful apprentice."

Revan folded her arms. "I'm not saying you haven't been faithful. Far from it. I'm saying you are becoming unreliable. You might not die like a lot of other poor fraks would under some OTHER Sith, should I decide you have failed me, but the existence you pass into would certainly not be considered much of a life beyond waiting to die. So, I tell you one last time, as your Master...as your wife...as the mother of your son..._get your frakking act together,"_ she finished coldly.

Malak stared at her.

"As you command...Master," he replied without emotion.

Revan gently pulled the bottle away from him and removed the IV from his neck. She looked over the bottle.

"Rodian whiskey. Rotgut. You could strip the paint of the walls with this stuff. Haven't I told you not to drink this?" she lectured.

"Many times," he replied. "Doesn't stop me from drinking it."

Revan looked the bottle over a moment. "We really need to find you a better hobby."

"Yes, master," he agreed tonelessly. He got up and left the room, careful not to display further defiance.

Revan regarded the bottle a final time, took a swig, thought it was what drinking pipe cleaner would be were she so inclined, and then set the bottle down on a desk nearby and left to join her errant husband.

The com-link on her belt beeped just as she exited the room.

"Yes?" she said, picking it up.

"Lord Revan, you should get back down to the guest wing. Something...odd, is taking place," said Saul Karath on the other end.

"What's going on? What is it, Karath?" Revan asked calmly as she strode into the guest wing with Malak close behind.

Salu pointed to something at the end of the table of food. All the guests had stopped eating and were transfixed by the item they were staring at.

"It dropped from a hidden compartment that had apparently been built into the ceiling," Saul explained. "Startled the hell out of the guests."

Revan walked toward the object in question.

It was a stuffed toy effigy of herself in full armor and mask, with a small little noose around its neck. Pinned to the note's belly was a small note that said "Squeeze Me!"

Revan listened to the Force for any dangers from the toy. Finding none she picked it up and squeezed.

A hologram buzzed into existence. Revan's eyebrow raised as she beheld the smirking Advisor Corle in full Jal-Shey garb. His dark, slicked back hair and eyes and dark brown skin in full color, which had to be expensive for a hologram.

"Ah, I see my little trick is being sprung finally," Corle said, jovially.

"Advisor Corle. What a pleasure," Darth Revan said, sitting down. "I'm disappointed you did not take me up on my last two offers to talk privately."

"It isn't that I don't trust you, Revan. It's just that I know you'd kill me without thinking about it."

"How can you say you trust me then?" Revan asked, telepathically whispering to Malak to escort the guests out.

"I trust you enough to act on your impulses is what I meant to say," Corle responded clinically.

"Well, what do you expect, Corle? I remember being VERY generous to you when I offered you to join me."

"And I remember just not giving a kek," he smiled, pacing about. "You wanna here a funny story?"

Revan folded her arms. "I'm not in the mood for games, Corle."

"All war is game. If it wasn't, then why have a board game like Dejarik? Besides, you'll like this story."

Revan took a glance behind her. The guest room had been cleared out and only Malak and Saul remained.

"It's a really funny story," Corle continued. "You see, it's about a Jedi. Real rascal. Hates listening to the council on anything, especially when it comes to the Mandalorians."

"I'm liking this person already," Revan said.

"Anyway, this Jedi, she gets it in her head that only she can save the Republic, so she drags her boyfriend with her into this crazy scheme and forms a rag tag army and gains a one-eyed psychopath for a right hand," Corle continued.

"Valia wasn't a psychopath. She was just...damaged goods," Revan contested.

"Regardless, she actually beats the Mandos back. Mission accomplished. But you know what? She decides she likes the power she's wielded and decides to make plans to stab the Republic in the back. She disappears, presumably to build her forces..."

"I know this story. Skip to the good part, where I win," Revan spat.

"I knew you'd ask that. Okay. Here's the really funny part. The Republic hasn't trusted Jedi since the Exar Kun war meaning they had your army so chock full of spies reporting back to them while you were fighting on their behalf you couldn't have sneezed without one of them knowing about it, or the little runt you had with Glass Jaw back there."

"You like to use that nickname too?" Saul asked with a surprised grin.

"Watch it, Saul," Malak growled.

"But it gets better. See, the Republic actually anticipated your betrayal several months before you came back and began this massive military build-up, coldly trusting Saul Karath with the codes to Telos' shield generator knowing he had gone turncoat, all so they could rally the whole galaxy behind them when you razed the surface, and also using the data gained from the destruction to assess the strength of your new forces. By the way, Karath, how well have you been holding off the wave of sabotages occurring on your fleet interdictors now that the Republic knows all their weak points?"

Saul had gone quiet, mouth slightly open at the revelation that the Republic had ALLOWED him to destroy Telos. Even Malak was wide-eyed.

"Here's the best part. The Republic is actually beating you thanks to the wealth of information provided by its spies which allowed them to construct a psychological profile of you. By my estimates they don't even need Bastila to beat you. The damage caused by their guerrilla attacks have caused moral among your men to drop. Recruitment has declined sharply. In seven months it isn't going to matter how many ships you have. Nobody will be willing to fight for you," Corle finished

"That," Revan spoke calmly "is quite an assumption."

"Have you had any real success taking the truly important worlds the Republic owns? Do you dare pay attention to the reports of the Area Denial Policy that the Republic has been acting out galaxy wide? Do you dare mention the recent seizure of an important farm world which ended in failure because the Republic poisened all the crops?" Corle pressed, leering at her. "What about the whole sectors of space the Republic has dumped mag-mines in?"

"Why do you bother to inform me of this? I will overcome it all eventually. I always do."

"No, Sith. The Republic was ready for the Dark Lords this time around. And they are gonna hand you your ass on a silver platter before they are through."

"So you say, but I must ask again, why do you inform me of these things which I am trying to correct. Is it to admonish me? To make some plea for me to surrender before it's too late, or something like that?"

"Hardly, I want you as dead as a critter on a swoop track. I just thought I'd put things in perspective for you. Oh, by the way, you feel...lightheaded?"

"Why?"

"Oh, nothing. It's just all the poison gas being pumped into the room when you squeezed the activation trigger in the doll-

Revan had sliced the toy in half before he could finish. Better to make Corle think he had the upper hand.

The hologram of Corle remained. "Don't bother, Revan. It is...too late for you," he spoke with a grin. "I am a devious little bastard, ain't I?"

"Yes, Corle, yes you are," Revan admitted. "Something I'll be sure to pull your heart out for when I eventually find you."

"I look forward to mopping the floor with your dead body," Corle replied pleasantly before the hologram's hidden emitters cut off.

"Did the team find the poison canisters?" Revan asked Saul.

"An hour ago," Saul answered smugly. "Corle isn't as thorough as he pretends to be."

"Good. Send an assault squad up to my personal quarters and extricate our 'guests'. We're going to find out who these bastards are once and for all."


	11. Checkout

Castle Serenno, one hour past midnight.

"Okay, let's work some magic here," C'bal said, still in his General Derred morph. He began typing furiously on the terminal of Darth Revan's personal office.

Evra, the Executioner, and Carra were right beside him. Dustil was watching the front door.

"Hurry the frak up!" Dustil hissed. "Something's wrong, Everybody is supposed to be clearing out of here!"

Carra tensed up with a look of horror.

"Oh, no, he's right!" she exclaimed. "It's a trap! The whole party was a trap!"

Evra felt a chill go down his spine from the hell that was about to be brought down on them.

"Carra, you're linked to Revan! How did you not know about it?!" he demanded.

"When I knew I would be in close proximity to her, I took some extra medication to keep from being hurt by the feedback, so I wouldn't hear her thoughts all that well," Carra answered, panic evident in her tone.

"How long do we have?" the Executioner demanded.

A few minutes, tops. They're sending Commandos," she answered. "I'm so sorry, guys-"

Evra cut her off. "Can't get everything right. Right now we have to decide how we're gonna make it through this. Executioner, go outside and hold them off anyway you can. Carra, you get Dustil out of here. Make sure no one sees him. If they even think he was with us, he's a dead man."

"You got it, Evra. Finally, some shooting!" the Executioner exclaimed, heading out of Revan's private office.

"What about Tul-Pa? Or you guys?" Carra asked.

"We can handle ourselves. And given Tul-Pa's abilities, I doubt they would be able to hold her for very long. You have your orders. Now move!" he said as he heard firing begin outside.

"C'mon, Dustil," Carra said, taking him by the arm and escorting him out.

"Boss," C'bal asked as he wiped out what he had done in the the database. "what are our chances?"

"Slim to none," Evra answered with brutal honesty. "But I didn't get this far just to be struck down by some schutta playing at being a Sith Lord."

"In other words, it'll be a matter of luck?"

"With luck like this, who needs misfortune?"Evra asked rhetorically as he heard the fire fight outside end with the unmistakable sound of a stun pistol being used.

Evra went over to C'bal, pulled out his pistol, and pointed at Adek's head.

"Pretend I coerced you. They might believe it, they might not, but the risk is worth it," he whispered.

The commandos burst into the lavish office, their red armor gleaming against the soft glow of the terminal C'bal was working at.

"Hands on your head or you die!" one of them barked.

"They threatened me with levels of pain you couldn't even begin to comprehend if I didn't cooperate!" 'Derred' said in a feeble voice to a very cross looking Revan and Malak. All of them, including Saul, were in the large dining hall Revan had cleared out ten minutes ago after Evra and the Executioner's capture. Food lay on the large table uneaten, and wine lay undrank across it.

"I'm shocked you couldn't comprehend the levels of pain 'I' could threaten you with," Revan answered coldly, arms crossed.

"Do I still have to pay him, Master?" Malak asked.

Revan rolled her eyes. "No, Malak, you don't have to pay him."

Malak seemed to cheer up. "Ah. Good."

'Derred' looked pleadingly at Saul. "Saul, you've known me for years! I would never deliberately betray you or the Dark Lords!"

Saul took a gulp of his wine. "I wish I could believe that, old friend," he answered sadly.

"Regardless, we're going to get the truth out of you one way or another," Revan said, snapping her fingers.

'Derred' went pale as he saw Colonel Atton Rand enter in a black jumpsuit covered by a white butcher's smock with a surgeon's mask over his face. In his right hand was a small black leather bag with a vibro-rod sticking out of it and a pair of pliars.

"Don't be frightened, Derred, you're getting it relatively easy. Rand usually brings a great deal more to his sessions, isn't that right, Colonel?" Revan asked.

"Indeed it is, Lord Revan," Colonel Rand replied absently, strapping on some latex gloves.

"Lord Revan. Perhaps some truth serum would be more reliable," Saul protested.

Revan held up her hand. "I've made my decision Saul. Its final."

Saul clenched his fists.

"As you command, Lord Revan," he replied tersely, heading for the exit.

"I hope he tears your friend a new one," Malak said with murderous glee as Saul walked past him.

"Eat kek and die, you grin-deficit retard," Saul replied without looking back.

Malak squinted hard at Saul as he walked out.

"One of these days..." Malak growled.

"Not now, Malak. We have our prisoners to attend to," Revan spoke, stone faced. "Colonel Rand, I leave you to your trade."

"Of course, Lord Revan," the Colonel replied, fixing shark eyes on his captive. As Revan and Malak left, he removed his mask and took a leg of un eaten Alderaanian chicken and began eating it, while taking out a vibro-rod and jamming it into his victim's stomach, who screamed in terror and pain.

"So," Rand asked casually as he ate. "You catch the Championship Pazaak Tournament last week on the Holonet?"

"Let's start with something easy," Evra heard a young seductive voice say into his right ear. "Who are you?"

Evra had had the hell beaten out of him by the Commando's well before he had arrived. He had blood caking from his nose down to his chin, and the eye-patch had been removed, exposing the damaged orb in his socket. He was tied to a wooden chair and the restraints were cutting into his wrists. Sweat from fear drenched his forehead. His good eye stung from the blows that had made the skin tear on the bruise. He couldn't tell where they were. The hot bright light overhead drowned out the surrounding features. His armor and under shirt and boots had been removed, he was now only wearing the Sith uniforms pants.

"It's an easy question," Revan repeated, taking him by the chin and turning his face towards hers.

"You have such a handsome face. It would be a shame for it to be damaged any further. So I ask again: Who are you?"

"Y-you really wanna...know?" he asked between coughs.

Revan cracked her knuckles. "I'm all ears."

"Okay," he said, coughing some more. His ribs hurt. "I'm the guy..._who fraks your mother."_

"Unwise," Revan said in bleak fashion. She stretched out her hand and Evra was bathed in the blue-white torment that was Force lightning.

"Who are you?"

"Your momma likes it when I put music on. She likes a beat for the horizontal tango-"

More torment from lightning. Evra didn't bother holding in his scream.

"My patience runs thin. Who are you?"

"Your momma...likes long walks on the beach. Give her enough whiskey...and she turns into a real whore-"

The punch to his face knocked him and his chair to the ground. He felt the Force clamp down on his throat.

"Do you really think I need you?" Revan hissed indignantly. "My husband is working your Mandalorian friend over as we speak. Once he tells Malak everything I want to know, there will be no reason to keep you except for my own amusement at watching you be flayed alive. If you talk now, I may be persuaded to have you simply shot rather than having Colonel Rand work you over...and he is MUCH better at this than I am."

"But Revan..." Evra coughed, "If you kill me...then where is your momma gonna get that sweet lovin' from?"

Blue white torment made Evra finally black out.

"There is no need to give me such a hard time about this, Derred. Really, All I need is a name, and we can start from there," Colonel Rand said with a touch of irritation, grabbing another chicken leg.

'Derred' was in a poor state. Rand had worked virtually every part of his body with that damn rod, and now he hurt in places he had never even considered being able to feel that much pain. He had avoided talking so far, but he wasn't sure how much longer he could keep that up.

It was only when he saw a familiar mass of darkness slithering behind Rand that he felt hope swell in him.

He mumbled something.

Atton peered closer. "I'm sorry, you say something?"

"I said," his captive replied. "Frak you."

Colonel Rand suddenly felt the weight of of an expensive vase crash down on his head. He slumped without a struggle.

"You're so lucky Bluefin wants your sorry ass alive, Rand," Tul-Pa snorted. She stared at C'bal as he morphed back to his default appearance. "Miss me, Freak show?"

"Boy am I glad to see you!" C'bal said, relieved as she undid his restraints. "This whole evening sucked SO HARD. By the way, do you have a plan? They kinda captured Ex and Evra. Carra had to escort Dustil out so he wouldn't get outed as a spy."

"Freak show, when it comes to covering my own ass, I always have a plan."

C'bal stared. "Despite the fact you wear less than a stripper taking a steam bath?"

Tul-Pa glowered at him. "I can always wake Rand up if you like, Freak show."

C'bal held up his hands in a placating gesture. "Okay, I get you, no need to wake the good Colonel up. He's violent. Very violent. And crazy. I hate crazy."

"I'm sure you do," Tul-Pa replied in a dry manner.

Carra had left Dustil under a peach tree just as Malak had ordered the party to be moved outside. He blended himself in just as Sith troopers had set up picnic rugs, wine and music for the decadent fest.

The mission had been blown. Badly. Corle wasn't going to like this, but he could recover from the embarrassment. Dustil needed to find some way to get back into the castle and make sure they weren't all exposed.

"You don't seem to be enjoying the party all that much, Dustil," noted a throaty female voice.

Dustil turned, it was Yuthura.

Of all the many vague displeasures he had regarding his treachery towards the Sith, his continued need to seduce Yuthura he regarded as the worst of it. She was not ugly by any stretch of the imagination. She could actually be intelligent and humorous. But she was still Sith. That was a wall he would never be able to climb over. All she could ever be good for to him was information.

At least that was what he continued to tell himself. Until the time came when he no longer needed to maintain his cover, he would have to continue to tolerate her lascivious whispers, her favoritism...and her bedside manner.

"I never was good at parties," he replied, flashing a smile.

He suppressed a grimace as she inched closer, wine glass in hand.

"It isn't just that, you seem more on edge than usual. I wouldn't worry, this matter will be cleared quickly, barring Revan's incompetence," she finished quietly.

"You're probably right about that," Dustil replied just as quietly. He needed to get back into that castle fast. He thought Evra as solid as they come, but he knew better than most what Sith cruelty could do to even the strongest of men.

"Yuthura, I'm not feeling well, at the moment. I need to go rest on the shuttle. It must have been something I ate," he said quickly, feigning illness.

Yuthura nodded. "Of course. Go right ahead."

"Thanks," he replied, glad it had come to the point she was simply taking him at his word. For a Sith, she was far too trusting.

Smoothing his hair back, he headed back down the pathway to the nearby shuttle dock.

An oily black tendril wrapped around his throat and yanked him into a waiting speeded as soon as he was out of eyesight from the rest of the party-goers.

Gasping for air, he flayed around in the dark uselessly until his captor revealed herself from the shadows, on top of him. C'bal sat in a nearby seat.

"You betrayed us!" Tul-Pa snarled, tightening her grip. "Darth Revan knew we were coming! There was an informant!"

"It wasn't me!" he choked out, seeing spots.

"Why should I believe you? What did that schutta promise you?!" she snarled.

"Talk, boy, talk and I might not have to give you an impromptu lobotomy," C'bal growled.

"I...would never serve her! I'm...Telosian! She's less than dirt to me!" he breathed, using the last of his oxygen.

"Telosian, eh?" C'bal replied, mulling over the implication. "Let him speak!"

"We can still save the others!" he gasped as soon as she relaxed her grip. "I was going to double back into the castle! There's a tunnel in a grove not too far off, leads right to the cellar! We can do it!"

Tul-Pa seemed to consider it. Finally, she turned back to C'bal. "What do you think, Freak show?"

"Beats letting the rest of the team die. You know how bad that looks on a military resume?"

Tul-Pa turned her head back to Dustil. "If you are lying to us, boy," she snarled, tightening her grip again, "we'll castrate you..._with your own teeth."_

She released her tendril arm, and got off him. Dustil breathed in a gew gulps of the sweetest air he had ever tasted.

A douse of ice cold water jolted Evra awake.

"At least you didn't piss yourself," Revan noted sourly, putting the bucket she had used for the water down. "That would have made me respect you even less."

"Go to hell," he gasped. "You're gonna lose it all, Revan. I might not be there when it happens, but you WILL be brought low. You're too stupid not to be."

"What I do, I do for the good of the Galaxy. For a weakling, your thoughts are remarkably well guarded. All I've been able to learn of you while you were out is that you're somehow affiliated with the Republic. It is odd that your mind is so strong. What were you after?"

"Your dirty panties," he breathed, wincing from the electrical burns. "I was...gonna auction them off on the holonet."

"I tire of your defiance."

"And I tire of your whole...villainous monologue. I mean...do you...do you...just sit around, thinking of suitably evil stuff to say, or does the retardation come when you become a Sith?"

A rope of Force lightning brought him new agonies. When he had finished screaming, she spoke.

"I'll never understand why the Galaxy continues to defy me. It is useless to resist. The power of the Sith will bring a new era of prosperity, protection from that which would bring it under its heel forever."

"Such a bleedin' heart philanthropist you are," he spat bitterly. "The Galaxy will not suffer you for long."

"It has no choice," Revan replied casually. "I have granted it mercy by removing that choice. Now will you answer my questions?"

"I'm still...the guy who fraks your mother," he spat. "You'll get nothing out of me."

"Very well. If you will not answer my questions, then perhaps you mandalorian friend will..." Revan raised her right hand towards him and the veteran soldier could see the lightning arcing across it building up to lethal levels.

"Get away from him!" screamed a familiar female voice.

Revan barely managed to bring her blade to a blocking stance as a brilliant green light saber came screaming down on her. It whipped about in a staccato motion Revan was intimately familiar with. It was her own, reproduced exactly.

How her opponent had managed to sneak up on her like that, a slightly panicked Revan wondered as she clashed with her new opponent, locking a maroon blade with green.

She finally got a good look at her opponent.

It was the woman General Derred had brought to dinner. She had changed into a losse fitting white robe and tight grey trousers.

The whole thing was a Jedi Operation, and their most daring one yet.

"Jedi," Revan snarled. "You have have some stones coming here so far away from your masters. You will never leave here alive."

"Bold talk from a Sith who can't even get a grunt to squeal," Carra snarled, throwing Revan back with a powerful Force pulse. "You didn't even bother to change out of your evening wear."

Revan reeled from the power the woman displayed. Just where the hell was the Order finding these people? Was there a union somewhere...?

Revan blocked another murderous strike.

"You are a dead woman," Carra proclaimed. "Every bone in your body will break. Your title of Dark Lord is a sham, a shroud to compensate for your own inadequacies."

"You know nothing," Revan replied, brushing off the pitiful attempt at psychological warfare.

Carra bashed her saber murderously against Revan's, driving the Sith Lord back. Revan saw a feral, slightly mad look in her opponent's ocean blue eyes.

Revan felt herself crash through a stone wall, feeling her left shoulder blade fracture slightly as her opponent threw another violent pulse of energy at her.

"You're wrong," Carra breathed, chest heaving with rage and anticipation. "I know EVERYTHING! I know your PATHETIC GRUDGES! Your CHEAP IDEALS OF RULE! I even know what electromagnetic frequency your Force energy operates on! You RUIN MY LIFE! IT ENDS TODAY!" she finished, spit flying from her mouth as she violently picked Revan up with telekinesis and slammed her into the ground before chucking her through another wall.

Without looking at him, Carra flicked her wrists and undid the restraints on Evra's arm. She pursued her prey through the gap she had created.

Evra weakly rose to his feet, staggering from the pain, coughing. At that moment, a floor panel underneath some rubble opened up and C'bal poked his head up from the opening.

"Hey Boss," he said with a grin at spotting Evra. "Wow. Revan really tore the hell outta you. You ready to make like a tree and leave?"

"Family Man!" Tul-Pa exclaimed leaping up out of the hole and going over to him. Her yellow eyes raked him over and for an instant, Evra would have sworn he saw a look of real concern pass over her face. "Are you okay? Can you fight?"

"Either I do, or I die," he replied, spitting blood on the ground.

Dustil poked his head out of the gap.

"Whoa...man, Evra, I'm sorry about this. I thought everything was going to plan."

"You came back," Evra noted. "Dangerous. What if you'd been spotted?"

"I don't bail out on my allies. That and you're the closest thing to an actual friend I have."

"I still think he's a traitor," Tul-Pa snorted. "We should kill him just to be sure."

Evra shook his head. "If Dustil had wanted to betray DOOMSAYER, he could have done it when I was still a student on Korriban. We would have been really screwed then. He's solid, Tul-Pa."

She snorted. "If you say so."

"Boss, are we still gonna try and complete the mission?" C'bal asked.

"Nah, Revan's probably got that Database locked up tighter than a Hutt's wallet. (As he said this he wondered just exactly what a Hutt's wallet looked like and where such a thing could be stored on said Hutt's body. He discounted this query after a second however; the possibilities were rather unsavory.) Our best bet is to get the hell out of here...but not before we make these bastards pay."

"I noted an armory in the schematics," C'bal mentioned, grinning. "Wanna pay it a little visit, Boss?"

"Yes, C'bal. Yes I do. Let's find the Executioner first. Malak's probably left him to aid his master. Be ready though."

"Looking for me, boys?" the Executioner asked, stepping through the hole Revan had been flung through. Evra could see slight trembling in the Mandalorian's hands, his gait was unsteady. He looked like he could barely stand in his blue armor. But to show weakness was unthinkable to a Mandalorian. Malak must have worked him over just as badly.

"How'd you get free?" C'bal asked.

"I'm the frakking Executioner, boy. No torture chamber can hold me. Especially when the head torturer decides to help his wife and leaves me with a bunch of dumb body guards," the Mandalorian answered. "Can we PLEASE blow something up now, Evra old chum? Pretty please with Mandalorian sugar lumps on top?"

"Mandalorian sugar lumps?" the whole group asked at the same time.

"What, Mandalorians can't like sugar like the rest of the galaxy? My clan's favorite type of candy was white chocolate. I myself favor milkshakes however," the Executioner replied defensively.

Evra rubbed the bridge of his nose. "We were actually gonna head to the armory."

The Mandalorian straightened up in obvious excitement. "Sweet! I KNEW this whole thing would end violently. I'm so happy I could do a jig!"

"Please don't, Bucket head," Tul-Pa said with annoyance. "The Galaxy is not quite ready for the horror of a Mandalorian dancing."

The team broke into the Armory on the uppermost level of Revan's Castle by blasting the large doors open with a Force pulse. Dustil had fled on Evra's orders to make sure he wasn't discovered.

"Neat," C'bal breathed when he took a peek inside.

"I think I'm gonna cry. I'm so happy," the Executioner whispered.

The armory wasn't a standard armory, with racks of weapons arranged neatly against walls. Rather, Revan seemed to treat the weapons inside as museum pieces, and they had obviously taken some time to collect.

"Check it out," Tul-Pa said, going up to a elegant long barreled blaster rifle, brown and slim, with a golden scope on top.

"It's a Blastech Series L. They only made a hundred of these," she whispered. "They say it can shoot the hair's off a fly's head at one kilometer."

"I like this pistol here," C'bal said, removing a black pistol from a stand with a white enamel grip. "It makes me feel sexy."

"I SO did not need to hear that, C'bal," Evra said, his eye taking notice of a black blaster carbine with with a banana-shaped energy clip sticking out on the side. It's barrel was snub nosed. He picked it up. The weight was good on it. He slung it over his shoulder and spotted something else that fascinated him.

The weapon appeared to be a old-style double barreled flak gun, but the barrels had been shortened so greatly that it extended little more than the barrel of a blaster pistol. The stock had been removed, leaving only a pistol grip. The sights were ornately crafted, and strange glowing blue runes were etched into the barrels themselves.

"I wonder who made this," he said, picking it up. He loved the feel of the weapon instantly.

Tul-Pa took notice of the weapon and her yellow eyes widened.

"Force," she whispered. "That's a Marek Original."

"A what?" he asked.

"It was made by a Force-Sensitive weapon smith, Cambul Marek. He is a notoriously belligerent alcoholic and spice addict, and he has been kicked out of every brothel from here to Nar Shaddaa. But he's extremely powerful. I heard he pulled a cruiser out of orbit just on the rumor there was a shipment of rare whiskey on it."

"It wasn't a cruiser, it was a _dreadnought," _the Executioner corrected. "I was on that damn thing when he did it. He was COMPLETELY wasted. He had no idea where he was, or how long he had been there. He'd taken enough spice to kill five men. Naturally I decided to overdose on spice with him and we went on a multi-day bender with Twilek prostitutes. Best. Week. Ever."

"Anyway, barring his character deficits, he is very talented at taking weapons and modifying them with the Force. Any weapon he makes has unique attributes not found in others. They are worth keeping when you find them," Tul-Pa finished, going over to a window and looking at the crowd of party goers below through her rifle scope.

"There's dozens of them," she noted. "The Sith patrols are starting to make a very tight protective perimeter around them. It's subtle but it is there, no doubt."

Evra was still smiling at his new prize. He tore some fabric off a nearby curtain, tying it around the weapon and then strapping it to his leg.

"Quick, Ex, pick something," Evra ordered.

"I already have," the Executioner whispered, going over to a particularly massive heavy repeater with five barrels on the front of it. It was a crimson and silver color, with a large energy pack attached to it.

The Mandalorian hefted it reverently off the wall.

"Guys, you know what this is?" he said in awe. "It's Mandalore the Ultimate's repeater."

"No way," C'bal said, jaw dropping open in surprise. "What's Revan doing with it though?"

"Don't be daft, boy. It's a trophy. Revan took it from him after killing him in combat. I heard that battle was insane from beginning to end," the Executioner answered activating it. The holographic counter read ten thousand shots just waiting to be fired.

"I must use it," he said, determination and glee mixing malevolently in his tone.

"No arguments here. Okay guys, game plan," Evra said. "Revan's probably got the entire planet locked down by this point. There's gonna be check points on all the roads, curfews, and shoot on sight orders. We're gonna need a distraction. First, since this mission is a bust, they're probably going to send search teams in here pretty soon. We can't sneak out the way Dustil, Tul-Pa and C'bal came in. They'll surely have that exit covered. C'bal, I need you to find a security terminal and lock down any sectors that let them control the area around the garage. Ex, you need to go down to the lower floors and start ambushing any Sith patrols you come across. Tul-Pa, I hate to ask this of you, but I need you to stay up here and start shooting at everyone below. This will distract them enough while I make my way to the garage. I'll steal a speeder and then go get Carra, if she's still alive. I'll use the Force to signal you and the Ex. C'bal, after you've finished playing with security, find a high ranking officer, kill him and take his form, we're gonna need that to get through any checkpoints to our escape shuttle. Tul-Pa, how good are you with impacts?"

"Have you seen one hurt me yet?" she asked rhetorically

"Point taken. After I signal, I need you to just fall from this height to the ground below. Ex, after I give the signal, you make your way to the garage and join me. C'bal, after you find your officer, get far from the action. See if you can actually dismiss some of the patrols in the castle. If you don't think you can get away with it, don't try."

"Sounds extremely dangerous, poorly thought out, and reckless," the Executioner noted. "I like it!"

"Big surprise there," C'bal noted dryly.

"Enough talk, team. Let's go."

Revan parried aside another vicious strike from her opponent as they fought on the grassy plains of Revan's home, the pale moon their only light. The battle had taken them far from her castle. Each swing was a hammer blow. And any attempt Revan made to counter-attack was instantly met with a counter-attack. The woman must have studied practically every known recording of Revan's fighting technique. It was so perfectly reproduced that had Revan not known better, she would have said she was fighting herself.

"With this much anger, you should have been a Sith. I could use someone like you," Revan hissed as their blades clashed.

"I WILL KILL YOU!" Carra roared.

"Such anger is unusual, even for a Jedi backslider like yourself. Let me guess, I killed a friend of yours? Your master perhaps?"

Carra's blade crashed against Revan's like an impacting comet. The Dark Lord's wrists almost buckled but she held.

The two swiped at each other, each trying for a killing blow, and that was when Revan noticed something odd.

As expert as her Jedi opponent was, as much as she seemed to know everything right down to the last detail about Revan's fighting style, she didn't seem to be more skilled than Revan herself. The Jedi could not overcome the Dark Lord.

Then again, the Dark Lord could not overcome the Jedi.

"My my, your masters were oddly specific in their instruction. You know enough to fight but not to win. Who are you? How did I miss such a powerful Jedi?" Revan asked mockingly as their blades slammed into each other again.

Carra head butted Revan hard in the nose. The Dark Lord stumbled back, blood gushing from her nostrils has Carra lifted her up in the vice grip of her telekinesis and began to squeeze.

"Break, damn you! BREAK!" Carra shouted.

Revan desperately called on the Dark Side to ward of her opponent's attempt to implode her whole body. The seething energies ate away at Revan's Force barrier.

Carra snarled and slammed Revan into the dirt hard, trying to make the Dark Lord break her concentration.

Grass and soil landed into Revan's mouth, making her choke as her opponent ran her body across the grass, shredding the ten thousand credit evening dress she had worn for the evening. A dirty, lacy black one piece soon became visible as Revan managed to summon enough power to break Carra's hold over her.

Revan concentrated, pulling a massive hunk of dirt out of the ground and throwing it at Carra.

Carra blocked the boulder sized missile with telekinesis, tossing it aside...and immediately catching Revan in another telekinetic grasp as the Dark Lord had attempted to get close enough for a Force Repulse and kill her with the shockwave. She slammed Revan into the ground, threw her up into the air, leapt after her, grabbed her, and then impaled her with her light saber. The two crashed into the ground with Carra on top, making sure Revan hit face first into the dirt.

Carra pulled her blade out of Revans abdomen, raising it for a decapitation strike.

Revan snarled, turning over and blasting Carra with lightning just as Carra brought the blade to guard.

"You're an open book to me, schutta," Carra taunted viciously, warding the lightning strikes off and redirecting them back towards the Dark Lord.

Revan screamed as the lightning hit her, but she refused to give up, using her pain to amplify the effects.

Carra snarled as the lethal arcs began to push her backward. She retreated a few steps at first, only to be sliding backwards, as the lightning grew more powerful. Finally, she was hurled back, screaming as the powerful arcs hit her.

Revan stood up, smoking, eyes blazing with pain and rage. It wouldn't be enough for long however. If she didn't find a doctor, she risked going into shock after the Sith Fury wore off. She didn't dare move her jaw. It was probably broken. She was bleeding badly from her nose and several other places. She felt dizzy as she approached her crumpled foe.

Something was wrong.

The hair wasn't blond any more. It was white, much like her own. And her foes hands ended in clawed fingernails.

_Force Mask, _Revan thought out loud. By all rights she should kill this impudent woman and be done with it, but the night had already become far too strange as it was, and this was a facet of the Jedi she was still getting used to. Besides, perhaps the woman could be turned. She could also hear firing in the distance. Something was wrong at the castle.

"Master, are you alright?!" Malak's voice called out as he ran towards her. "I got here as soon as I could. Your friend there tried to collapse the castle on top of me. Had to dig myself out of the rubble."

Revan didn't care why he had arrived so late, or even if he was telling the truth. All she wanted was to look at this woman's face and see what the mask technique had hidden.

She sensed the blaster bolt screaming for her head almost too late. She barely managed to summon her blade in time to block the shot to her head.

She blocked it successfully, but the shot impacted so hard it made the blade jump towards her scalp nearly. Several more came and she didn't dare try to block them.

She used the Force to tell Malak to run and he didn't countermand her. The Sith scrambled for cover as the lethal sniper fire followed.

Back at the castle, Tul-Pa smiled as she kept firing at the Dark Lords, until they disappeared from her sight.

"You owe me one, Blondie," she said to herself.

Evra silently stalked the darkened corridors of Revan's castle, he and C'bal having long ago split up.

He quickly hid behind a curtain as he heard footsteps, making sure that the light wasn't to his back as he did so.

He tensed up as he heard the sound of carbines charging up. Flashlights quickly flashed by his position.

Getting out his new flak gun, he quietly peaked out of the curtain and stared at the four man patrol as they proceeded forward.

They must be after Tul-Pa, he realized. He didn't have long to get to the garage. He continued toward his goal creeping silently.

He heard the maniacal laughter of the Executioner a floor below, opening fire on someone. He heard a grenade detonate.

"Boss, can you hear me?" C'bal asked quietly over the comlink he managed to hide earlier from his captors.

Evra grabbed it and ducked into a restroom.

"I hear you, Adek. Go ahead.

"I managed to find me an admiral to impersonate. All the paths except the ones leading to the garage are locked. The security center I'm in tells me you have to turn right and head straight past the private art gallery. Oh, and Boss? I do advise haste in this issue. The countryside is just swarming with checkpoints. We don't make it out of here in the next fifteen minutes, even the clearance of this admiral I'm imitating won't be enough."

"Roger," Evra replied. He quickly exited the small restroom-

-only to run smack dab into a familiar face.

The Sith Lord he had encountered on Hoth grinned at him. The wasted right eye was still fresh with the hideous burn wound from Evra's flare. So were the terrible stab wounds in his chest from where Evra had buried his knife. He had a brand new light saber hanging from his belt, a silver colored version of the one he had tried to kill Riordo with on Hoth. Even the spike at the butt of the hilt was the same.

Before Evra could raise his weapon, Sion flung both his weapons away with a flick of his hand.

"We meet again," the Sith spoke in his strange metallic voice.

"Uh...yeah. I guess. Didn't I stab you in the heart?"

"You might have. I have yet to go to a doctor." The Sith cracked his knuckles and Evra found himself sweating.

"Surrender now, and I promise to torture you for only an hour, as opposed to the next several days."

Evra stared hard at his enemy. "I still get tortured," he replied in a deadpan voice.

"But not as long. It is a good bargain. You should take it."

"Isn't there like a deal where I wouldn't get tortured?"

"If that was the case, what would I get out of it?"

"Err...a clean conscience?"

"No," the Sith said flatly. "Take the offer. I will not ask again."

Evra tried to strike first. The bald Sith grinned, catching it in his strong, large hand.

"I shall delight in making your brains come out of your skull," the Sith said with a wicked smile.

Evra yelled as his enemy twisted his whole arm, forcing him to his knees as the Sith laughed. He used his left fist to punch the Sith in the abdomen, only to yell as his knuckles hit a rock covered in flesh.

The Sith took him by both his arms and lifted him off the ground, head butting him. He felt his nose break but didn't have the strength to yell as he had also become extremely dizzy. Blood gushed out at an alarming rate as Evra frantically tried to free himself from the Sith's grip. The Sith laughed as some of Evra's blood got on his face as he head butted him again.

Evra knew that in the next few seconds he was going to die unless he got clever.

But this guy hadn't even pulled out his light saber yet! How could he defeat him when-

Wait a minute. The guy hadn't even pulled out his light saber.

It was still attached to his belt. With a hopefully big fat activation button.

Evra kicked at Sion's light saber repeatedly, swallowing coppery mouthfuls of his own blood. He wanted to vomit.

By the time the Sith realized what Evra was doing, it was too late for him.

The red energy blade snaked out, the tip of it punching through the Siths armored boot.

The Sith screamed, instantly letting go of Evra, who used the split second to grab the hilt and shove it further into the floor-right through the Sith's foot in doing so.

The Sith backhanded him away and the world rattled for Evra. His whole body smashed into a desk holding a simple brass colored vase with an opening the size of his head could easily fit in to which miraculously tumbled into his lap, unbroken.

Struggling to make sense of the world, Evra belatedly got up wth the heavy vase-it felt like it was made of metal-battling with his own nausea and vertigo.

Just as the Sith finished delicately removing the blade from his foot-screaming all the while-Evra jammed the opening of the vase onto the Sith's whole head.

The Sith swung the light saber wildly, roaring. He missed Evra, but that was only because Evra had dropped to his knees to throw up. He wasn't too cognizant of the world around him, even as the soldier in him screamed to get away.

When the blade just barely missed his left ear, Evra rolled out of the way. Summoning whatever concentration he could, he let off a small bolt of lightning, and then dropped to the floor as his hand cramped from the exertion.

The bolt struck the vase and the Sith screamed as the metal it was made of heated around his skin and head as his body jerked from the electricity. He dropped the light saber in shock and pain.

Evra yelled, tackling the Sith, slamming his fist again and again into a very delicate area that the male readership will have no trouble deducing. The Sith roared again, trying to rip Evra off him, but the weak Dark Jedi smelled victory. (Then again, he might have been imagining that last part. He almost certainly had a concussion and his nose was badly clogged with blood and swelled tissue. He was lucky he was even awake.)

Grabbing the Sith's light saber, he brutally hacked the Sith's right arm off with it, the Sith screaming all the while.

The Sith's struggling however, managed to knock Evra away, the light saber tumbling from his grip.

The Sith righted himself, pulling the vase off his head with his remaining arm. Sulfur colored murder was in his eyes as he stalked the wounded Evra, seemingly huddled on the ground in pain and exhaustion.

Lighting arced between the Sith's remaining fingers.

"Any last words, you troublesome dog?!" the Sith roared.

Evra mumbled something.

"What?" the Sith barked, stepping closer.

Evra rolled over, blaster carbine in one hand, and flak gun in the other.

the Sith screamed as Evra fired, his whole body hurled back by the force of the flak gun blast, the shots from Evra's carbine piercing his torso.

He hit the ground, twitching wildly as Evra continued to fire nonstop, the burst from the flak gun alone deafening as Evra emptied the whole clip into his opponent, splattering gore everywhere as the Sith's chest exploded. The Sith finally stopped moving, his expression frozen between bewilderment and rage.

"I said," Evra spat with finality, "that I have my weapons."

He lowered his weapons.

He approached the body. Definitely dead. He couldn't feel anything from it.

Evra spotted the blood splattered light saber his opponent had used and picked it up, clipping it to his belt. He also picked up the arm he had hacked off.

"I know there's a pun here somewhere...but I'm in too much pain to think of it," he said, throwing the arm out of a nearby open window.

Evra heard footsteps fast approaching. "Quickly, the shots came from here!" a male voice shouted.

Evra ran for his life.

Evra leapt through the small entrance to the garage just as a blaster shot whizzed over his head.

The automatic door sealed behind him and he stood up, sweating ashe heard the pounding on the other side. He didn't have long.

The garage was fairly large, big enough to fit three speeders in it, and a repair bench. He spotted an elongated, glossy black speeder with white racing stripes and a convertible top, big enough to fit all of his team if they squeezed. It was parked between a cherry red speeder and a steel gray one.

Evra was in love with the vehicle instantly. He belatedly climbed in and fumbled for the controls.

The speeder roared to life, settling to a dull electric purr. The engine must have been second to none.

He looked at the dashboard and spotted a small photo of Darth Revan in a tiny white dress, standing barefoot at some kind of beach, with a glass of wine in her hand, stuck to the speed indicator with tape.

For a moment, and no more, Evra admired it. It seemed it had been taken before she was Sith. Seeing her in this manner did not evoke the wrath the real Darth Revan would from now on.

The Garage door ahead of him slid open, leading to the open air.

Evra pulled out his comlink.

"Guys, drop whatever you're doing and haul ass to the front entrance of the castle, on the double!" he barked.

With that he sped out into the open plains of Serreno, adjusting his altitude to go lower to the ground. He was five stories above it.

As Evra pulled up to the front he noticed the partygoers had long ago fled, bodies filled the immediate area, cut down by Tul-Pa's unforgiving aim.

The front doors burst open, and the bodies of five Sith commandos followed suite, twisted, broken, and shot to pieces.

The Executioner strode out, hefting Mandalore the Ultimate's repeater, followed by a bald wrinkled red-skinned Twi-Lek admiral.

"Hey, Boss!" the admiral waved happily.

Evra nodded. "Lookin' good C'bal."

"Evra, old chum, your face looks like it fell off of asskicker's mountain and hit every boulder on the way down," the Executioner joked. "I'm jealous! PLEASE tell me you killed your attacker painfully!"

"Oh, he wasn't happy, I can tell you that," Evra answered wearily. "I'm still not good at one liners, however."

Evra spotted something out of the corner of his eye falling to the earth.

Tul-Pa hit the pavement, her body deforming into an oily, oozing shadow that writhed on the ground for a second before reforming into her.

"Your face looks like-" she began.

Evra held up a hand. "I know. Did you spot Carra?"

"She was still lying on the grass where she fell a few seconds ago. I'll drive."

Evra scooted over as Tul-Pa got into the drivers seat. He took the opportunity to catch his breath and he felt the pain set in almost immediately over his body. He coughed, his ribs sore.

The Speeder jerked to a stop and he scrambled out of it, looking for Carra's limp frame.

He spotted her, limp on the grass, ahead of them.

In too much pain to notice anything amiss, he quickly went over to her, hefted her up, grunting in pain as he did, and hauled her back to the speeder. He dumped her in the back with C'bal and the Executioner.

"Boss, look!" C'bal yelled, pointing at the sky.

Evra turned and saw the faint glimmer of fast approaching combat shuttles.

Evra leapt into the vehicle. "Punch it. They catch us, we're dead!" he roared.

The speeder rocketed off to the road that they had originally come through to reach Revan's castle.

"You think the shuttle will be able to beat the blockade?" the Executioner asked.

"Never mind the blockade! What about us and the checkpoints?" Tul-Pa asked.

"I hope so," Evra grumbled, wincing from the burns.

"Hey, what's up with Carra's face-HOLY KEK! YOU!" he yelled, jumping up out of his seat.

Tul-Pa turned her head for a quick look.

"I knew Blondie was too good to be true," she said without emotion.

"You said it," the Executioner agreed, staring at the face. Evra turned also and his mouth dropped.

The face was distorted on the left side, scarring apparant, and the skin seemed particularly thin and transluscent on the cheek bone, not to mention slightly darker.

But there really was no mistaking the face for anyone other than Revan's.


	12. Story time! Again!

Serreno, orbit.

The team had barely escaped the planet in their stealth shuttle before Revan's fleet had blockaded her own home world.

In the cramped confines of the shuttle, the entire team stared down a nervous looking Carra, her too perfect looks melted away by the power of Force Lightning, revealing her to share a flawed copy of Revan's face. Her face was the epitome of misery. Her red eyes refused to look at any of them, especially Evra.

"I know this woman," C'bal said suddenly. This drew looks of surprise from the Executioner, Tul-Pa, and Evra.

"If you say that, Freak show, you must have also known who she was the whole time," Tul-Pa sneered.

"I suspected," C'bal replied.

"Then why didn't you say anything?" Evra demanded to know.

"I had no proof. Part of me thought I was just being paranoid. I was shocked I had been right the whole time. Besides, even if I had known, I still would not have talked."

"Why's that?" the Executioner asked.

"Children of the test tube are forbidden to compromise or betray one another except in rare cases. I cannot, I will not betray my own."

Evra looked at Carra and then back at C'bal. "She's a Midichloral Manipulation?" he asked.

C'bal looked at Carra, seemingly for permission to speak. Carra granted it with a simple nod.

"When she was born, she went by the designation, 'Subject 11-39'. Everyone born into the Eleven series of experiments were clones of famous or otherwise powerful Force users. In my case, I was a clone of Ulic Qel-Droma. I didn't turn out very well. Got regulated to the holding facilities where the Sith Philosophers kept all the other failed experiments. Carra served as something between a nurse and a den mother for the really poorly made ones. Everyone pretty much took their cue from her. She was in a trusted status among my makers. If she had kept at it, they might have eventually allowed her to become a Philosopher herself."

"So what happened?" Evra asked.

"Xahn happened," Carra finally spoke, her voice dry and hoarse. "Born as Subject 11-38, worked himself up to personal assistant to Darth Hippocratus. No one saw his betrayal coming. He grew bold from constant dreams he had of a talking, burning tree that told him to rise up against his makers and lead his people out of Philosopher slavery. I participated in his rebellion as his right hand. The revolt started in the Philosopher base on Dantooine. With Valia Renn's help, the very best and worst of their creations let havoc reign."

"Typical. Monster makers always get destroyed by their own profession," the Executioner noted.

"After the rebellion on Dantooine, we went on to liberate other philosopher holding facilities," C'bal added. "We have yet to reach the promised home for our kind that Xahn predicted, however."

"So how come you constantly get Revan's memories?" Evra asked Carra.

"It is because they attempted to make an exact clone. With C'bal, they didn't try to, they mixed his Qel-Droma DNA with some Anzati sequences. With me, I'm a ninety-six percent genetic match, the rest of it having been altered by the creation process in-vitro. My creators theorized that because I was such a close genetic match, the Force had somehow become 'confused' and began treating us like we were the same person, forging a parasitic bond that only the most harmful of medicine can suppress. The only way to break the bond is for one of us to die...and I have a family to go home to. And that is why my fate is now in your hands, Evra."

"What do you mean?"

"It is up to you whether or not Bluefin is fully informed of my relationship to Revan."

"Why? With your power, you could easily kill everyone on the team to keep your secret," the Executioner scoffed.

Tul-Pa gave him a snide look. "She couldn't kill me on her best day, Bucket Head."

"Witch, unlike you, I have no delusions of my own grandeur. You wouldn't last thirty seconds and you know it," the Mandalorian snapped.

"I'm not Revan," Carra spoke, gaze going steely. "I don't kill people just because of convenience. I'm not seeking anyone's death except for hers. If you talk, I'll simply flee, but I don't need to be worrying about DOOMSAYER chasing me all over the galaxy and the team would take a hit in effectiveness. I've already proven my worth plenty of times. Are you really going to risk all of that just because I happen to look like our mutual enemy?"

Evra was silent as he contemplated his choices.

Finally, he made his decision.

"She stays. None of us talks, got it?" he asked.

"You sure about this? Everything she told us could be total kek," Tul-Pa snorted.

"Yes, I'm sure. She saved my ass back in the Castle. And as Ex so helpfully pointed out, she could easily just kill us to keep her secret. Plus, Revan would never allow someone this powerful to simply be an agent in the field. Certainly wouldn't allow a clone at that."

Tul-Pa thought about the reasoning before nodding and turning her tead towards Carra.

"Okay, Blondie, you get a pass."

Carra nodded. "Thanks. I won't let you guys down. I promise."

"You'd better not," the Executioner growled. "If Bluefin finds out about this..."

"You think I don't know what DOOMSAYER will do to us?" Evra asked the Mandalorian, anger making him squint his eyes. "You let me worry about that."

Carra closed her eyes and an electric blue tinge lit up her whole body, encasing it in a blue glow. Evra felt the hairs on his arms stand up from the static electricity in the air.

With a bright flash, the blue glow vanished, and Carra once more had her too perfect looks."

"So thats how you put on your make-up in the morning," Evra joked. "C'mon, let's get out of here."

Bluefin had most certainly not been pleased by the turn of events that nearly led to the whole team being captured. Even less so by the fact that someone had ratted them out. Evra spent some of it in the ship med-center aboard the B'lerofon, treated for the electrical burns he had suffered, with Carra greatly speeding up the process.

It wasn't until a day later that he had been cleared to leave and returned to his quarters.

Tul-Pa was there, lazily lounging on his bed, admiring the light saber he had seized from the Sith Lord on Hoth.

"You should start a collection," she said.

"You need something?" He asked.

"Not really, no. However, 'want' is another matter entirely..." she replied, getting up of his bed and sauntering towards him, her hips swinging delightfully the whole way.

Evra felt his collar get hot. "What is it you want exactly?" he asked, hoping he was misconstruing her intent.

His hope was dashed by her answer.

"You. Right now."

"I told you I'm married," he replied tersely.

"I don't see your wife here, Family Man. What your wife don't know won't hurt her," Tul-Pa leered, inching closer.

"What the hell brought this on, anyway?" Evra asked, backing away a bit.

"I simply just got a chance to observe what you are like under stress," Tul-Pa answered. "I liked what I saw."

"I'm no prize."

"True, but you have a-special quality to you," she replied, inching ever closer, reaching over and running her right hand over his shoulder. "Some call it luck, I call it the ability to get things done."

"My luck is awful," Evra replied bitterly. "You know Bluefin wants me to start visiting a therapist over how Revan tortured me? That isn't good luck. I've been shot, blown up, stabbed, and a hundred other things. The only thing keeping me going is the thought of going home."

"I'm not saying you can't Family Man. I'm just saying you should take comfort where you can find it," she replied, eyes burning with some carnal emotion civilizations throughout history have never been able to give proper name to. Evra was seeing it, and against his better judgment, slowly found himself bewitched by it...

Tul-Pa whispered into his ear. "Say it. Say you want it and its yours..."

The door chimed.

Tul-Pa fought off the urge to swear as she turned into a mass of inky darkness and slithered under Evra's bed.

Colonel Bluefin marched into the room. "Riordo! Hope I'm not disturbing you, son."

"Of course not, Colonel. Please, come in," Evra replied, clasping his hands behind his back and standing at attention.

"At ease," Colonel Bluefin said with a wave of his hand. He stepped forward.

"Evra, I just wanna say how sorry I am that you suffered at Revan's hands. But I should also remind you that your efforts are starting to get to her."

"Not my efforts, Colonel. The others saved my life on the last mission. Each performed to the absolute best of their abilities. Especially Tul-Pa," he replied, adding that last bit rather quickly. "By the way, I've been meaning to ask you something, Colonel..."

"What is it?"

"Have you any idea who leaked the news to Revan that we were coming?"

"We're working on it, Riordo. We have our suspicions, but until that time we will need to be more careful than usual in our communications. As I said, though, I'm impressed by your ability to reverse the situation with Revan in your favor. You're a model of what DOOMSAYER expects from its operators," Bluefin finished, smiling.

"You really think DOOMSAYER will be able to replace the Jedi Order, Colonel?"

"Positive. The Republic is TIRED of its 'Great Protectors'. They're barely fit to protect a brothel. They've gotten us into so many absurd situations the Senate has lost count. And still we back them, because we don't have the guts to tell them to go frak themselves. And because without them, we're easy pickens for the Sith. Sith who continuously emerge from Jedi ranks! Once we have proven ourselves, we won't need them anymore. The balance of power will shift back into the hands of the people. And if the Jedi do not wish to give up their position as 'Guardians', well...wouldn't be the first time there was a Jedi Purge."

"You're willing to meet the Order in open warfare, Colonel?"

Bluefin frowned. "You're damn right I am. And so are a great deal of other Republic soldiers and officials. Revan's Sith are inherently a weak and cowardly bunch, made a threat only by sheer numbers. After we deal with them, it would be the perfect time to strike. Kick 'em while they're down. Did you know the Republic never even wanted the Jedi Order to begin with?"

"To hear the Order tell it, they've always been such great friends to our civilization."

"Nothing could be further from the truth," Bluefin corrected quickly, sitting down on a nearby chair. "There have always been a few people in the higher ups who know the truth about what really happened when the Order showed up at the Republic's doorstep, proclaiming themselves friends who only wished to help expand our influence across the stars."

Evra sat down on his bed. "This should be good."

"They were the subject of fear. The Force was not widely understood. Most saw it as sorcery. Black magic. The Republic wanted nothing to do with them, even after they displayed the full extent of their abilities at the time, with the Grand Master, a Cathar woman by the name of The Yellow Sage, pulling a pirate ship out of orbit. The first Chancellor of the Republic, Ahkmoset The Hutt, proclaimed the Order time bombs, calling them a threat to the democracy that he and a nascent Senate had spent so many years tentatively forming in the few star systems they controlled."

"Unfortunately for Ahkmoset, he couldn't see which way the wind was blowing," Bluefin continued ruefully. "The Senate had grown tired of controlling only a handful of systems. They wanted to expand badly, and the Jedi provided the symbol they had been seeking to rally around. Appalled, Ahkmoset labored in vain trying to keep the Order out of Republic affairs, begging anyone who would listen that the Order's own policies would be their undoing, and the Republic would one day start facing the conceptual opposites of the Jedi, and that the temptation of power would turn many of them arrogant or worse, become this new enemy he feared was on the horizon."

"What happened to him?"

"He finally rebelled against the Senate, even as its borders were expanding exponentially with the Jedi behind their every success, leading a few rich systems that feared the Jedi and began a civil war that threatened to destroy the Republic. He and his forces fought bravely, but he was defeated by the Jedi," Bluefin finished. "They've had their run, Riordo. They've had it for too long. Our civilization has suffered for their stupidity, and their arrogance, long enough. It's time for the war to end." Bluefin stood up. "I'm not saying it won't be a brutal, heinous thing, but the Order's next after the Sith. But, I've gotten off track. I really just came to tell you that you've been doing a great job so far. And to give you this," he finished, holding up a small service patch that had DOOMSAYER's emblem on it.

"Granted, you won't be able to wear it on your missions, but I think you've earned it by this point. Keep on your toes. I may have another job for you in a few days." With that, the Colonel exited Evra's quarters.

The oozing darkness that had been hiding under Evra's bed quickly reconstituted into Tul-Pa.

"Your Colonel is ambitious," she noted with distaste. "Too ambitious."

"He's just had enough, like a lotta people," Evra replied.

"That's how it always starts, you know," she began, laying down on Evra's bed. "First you gotta get rid of the ones who it's easy to blame for everything. Then you get rid of their friends. Then, you target the people who were associated with them. Pen ultimately the ones who don't like how you handled matters. And then finally, you can attack anyone else you don't like. He is a snake in the grass."

"The Colonel has probably seen more war than any of us," Evra replied defensively. "Besides, if you think Colonel Bluefin's such a snake, why stay?"

"I have no interest in being ruled over by the damn Sith. That does not mean however, that I find Bluefin an affable alternative. My advice, as soon as Revan and Malak are dead, that is about the time we should conveniently 'vanish'. Make a living as mercenaries, while the making is good." Tul-Pa turned her head toward him. "You think he won't throw us away if we become a problem, Riordo? This is a black operation. You can get away with almost anything, including getting rid of those you don't need anymore."

"Bluefin isn't that kind of commander."

"How do you know?" she retorted. "You barely know anything about him. There was your initial recruitment phase, and then you were off at Korriban for two years putting people's eyes out with hot pokers. No offense, Family Man, but your perspective isn't all that encouraging."

Evra was given pause. He truly had no response. Tul-Pa was right. He really DIDN'T know Bluefin that well.

"If you have as much confidence as you say, why hide the truth about Blondie from him?" she pressed, getting up. "We should be prepared to bail the first sign of trouble."

"I'm not into treachery, Tul-Pa."

She leaned close. "Maybe it's time for that to change. Authority isn't all it's cracked up to be." She began to head for the exit.

"And Evra," she said without looking back. "You change your mind about getting that stick out of your ass...let me know."

She walked out, leaving the doubt to stir within her team leader.

After a few hours of trying to sleep without having nightmares about Korriban, Evra had headed to the mess hall. It was virtually deserted, save for one person.

C'bal looked up from his dessert of cherry-flavored gelatin. "Hey, Boss. Didn't expect to see you up so late."

"Nightmares," Evra explained, wearing a spare gray jumpsuit and boots.

"You too?" he asked, continuing to eat. "I've had nightmares for years. You get used to them after awhile."

Evra sat down next to him. "What do you have nightmares about? You seem like such a...happy person."

"Remember? I started life out as a prisoner of the Sith Philosophers," C'bal replied, his smile fading slightly. "Earliest memories I have are of tests. The lighting was always low. The poorly made ones always had a sensitivity to light, and even for guys like me, we weren't all that used to light. I still blink a bit too much at all these ship lights. Years of poking me with hypos. They would give us toys and data pads to measure our cognitive functions."

"What were the Sith Philosophers like?" Evra asked.

C'bal waved his hand dismissively. "Would-be revolutionaries. Researched trying to create the perfect being for years, with us as their misbegotten children. Some of the crazy fraks even thought of themselves as our parents."

"Is that what happened with your creator?" Evra asked.

C'bal gave him a wry look. "You sure you wanna hear this?"

"Sure," Evra replied.

C'bal slid a spare cup of gelatin and a spoon over.

"Remember my creator's name, Darth Hippocratus? He was the chief medical physician for that band of madmen. He oversaw every creation. He took a liking to me, probably because the concept behind my creation was his idea. Broke his heart when he found out about the catch to my ability."

"How did they find out you had to eat brain matter to gain knowledge?" Evra asked, taking a spoon of gelatin. "Mmmm...lemon."

"Oh, Hippocratus was feeling 'fancy' and picked up a bit of imported Maalraas brain. It is a delicacy in the Onderon system. He made a real fine stew of it and fed me some, trying to teach me 'culture'. Needless to say, I immediately picked up the memories of a proud alpha male leading his pack, caring for his litter...before being struck down by a hunter's blaster bolt."

"I guess that kinda squashed any hopes you had of doing comedic impressions," Evra noted.

"Pretty much. You can't imagine how pissed off I was about that. I had gotten this awesome impression of Exar Kun that I had been dying to try. The only way I'd be able to do the impersonation now is by hoping somebody gave him a lobotomy before he died and kept the sample."

"I can't imagine they had you stop at eating animal brains."

"No...they didn't," C'bal replied quietly. "One day he gave me a sample of something I hadn't seen before. I ate it, and I was horrified to discover it had been some Jedi Knight that had gotten too close to their operation. And that was when I realized I hated them," he finished. "I refused to participate any further, so he was forced to relegate me to a cell block with the other 'failed' experiments."

"I'm surprised they didn't just kill you."

"I'll say this for them, they don't force you to serve them if you don't want to. They would rather have people who truly believe in the cause. That sentiment still didn't help them in the end when the rebellion came."

"What was it like?" Evra asked, taking another spoonful of gelatin.

"The rebellion?" C'bal replied, finishing his snack. "Terror. Death. Suffering. The usual stuff where our kind is involved. I remember me and 11-39 were the first out of our cells. She ripped the doors off every security checkpoint, steamrolling over the armed guards! One guy, 12-26, he was a new kind of Sith Stalker prototype they were developing. He was armed with a tonfa saber. Carved a way for the weaker, more autistic ones. Some were truly misshapen horrors that couldn't defend themselves. We tried to protect them as best we could Some of us thought of ourselves as parents to THOSE poor creatures, and most of us were barely out of our teens. Anyway, a great deal of us fought the men and women who had been our wardens-or the closest thing we had to family. I was no different. Hippocratus died by my hand."

"Must have been difficult, given your history with him."

C'bal lowered his head for a moment. "Very difficult," he agreed, resting his arms on the table. "Let me show you something,"

C'bal pulled up the right sleeve of his jumpsuit. Evra stared at a faded tattoo of a smooth lightsaber hilt with two snakes intertwined along its length sliced in half.

"A child of the test tube gets this if he killed his own creator in service to the cause. Normally, we tried to take down each other's creators so we don't have to live with too much guilt, but alas, mistakes are made on the battlefield."

Evra rested his chin on an upright set of knuckles. "I take it tattoos are part of the culture?"

"Yeah. You get tattoos for what experimental line you're from, what facility you were made in and who made you. There's tattoos for if you are the mastermind of a breakout, or for if you served a mastermind. The one's with those are accorded the most respect."

"What about the better made ones? What did they do?"

"Sorry. Can't talk about that. What I can tell you is that we still have a long way to go. The poorly made ones suffer daily, and need round the clock care."

"Is that partially why you took this job? To get money to care for them?"

"Partially, yes. And because...I do not wish to live like...this," C'bal answered. "I've acquired a good deal of memories from a whole cross section of society. I have to live with what I do to get the information I want on a daily basis. I have nightmares about their memories. Granted, I've tried to make sure most of my targets had it coming in some form or another, but really...in this line of work, don't we ALL have it coming, in some form or another?"

"You're probably right about that. He who lives by the sword has no right to complain about being struck by one."

"And that's why I don't intend to stay in one place when that sword comes swinging for me. I want to be able to walk in broad daylight without people staring. I want to...go somewhere. Somewhere where all is forgiven. Somewhere with flowers."

"Don't we all," Evra replied grimly, remembering the filthy taint from Korriban that stained him still. "I better go to bed. Thanks for talking."

"Thanks for listening," C'bal replied. "My kind rarely talk about these things to outsiders, but you already proved yourself by protecting one of our own. You're a class act, as far as I'm concerned."

Evra nodded before departing.


	13. Historical Settings

B'lerofon, twelve days after Serreno mission.

"You actually tried to publish a novel?" Carra asked in amazement as the Executioner sat at the briefing table cleaning a blaster of Mandalorian origin.

"Yep. An embarrassing time."

"What was it about?" Carra asked.

"Well, it was nonfiction. Damn editor rejected it. Called it 'An affront to civilized society', a 'Crime against literature', and stopped just short of declaring it a biological hazard."

Carra raised an eyebrow. "Wait a minute...what was it about?"

"It was about hilarious true stories involving accidents related to performing colonoscopies on small animals," the Executioner replied blankly. "Didn't see what the big deal was."

Carra stared at him, stone faced. "You are an unbelievable bastard, Mandalorian."

"That's one more novel than YOU tried to publish," the Mandalorian grumbled.

Evra, Tul-Pa, and C'bal walked into the room and took their seats. Tul-Pa stretched out and put her legs up on the table. C'bal and Evra sat down across from her and tried hard not to pay attention to her long, dark legs, but their eyes would occasionally slide onto her ankles.

Bluefin walked in a second later, coughing as he normally did. His fit ceased after a moment and he placed a disc-shaped holo-projector at the center of the table.

"We got us a real special one today, folks. One of my spies on the outer-rim was doing a survey of a smuggling operation. After he completed his mission, his ship was damaged by a passing meteor just as he went to hyperspace. He was lucky he wasn't killed. Anyway, he found a world, which he landed on to make repairs..."

The holo-projector activated, displaying a planet of white, with silvery rivers running through it.

"He scouted the initial area, and based on some ruins he examined, he believes he has made an incredible find," Bluefin continued. "This, gentlemen, is the tomb world of Bodhi."

"What's so special about this place?" C'bal asked.

"What Korriban is to the Sith, Bodhi was to the Jedi. A tomb world for their most revered members. It has been lost for thousands of years. A whole world of secrets, waiting to be rediscovered, plundered."

"If it is such a find, why not have a team of scientists on the surface? Why do you need us?" Evra asked.

"Bodhi is in a relatively unspoiled state. That means it is much more hazardous. Ancient texts indicate that Jedi tombs have always been more elaborate and dangerous. Before they switched to cremations, they had an entire sect that was devoted to crafting tombs and dealing with the mysteries of death. It was they who did most of the work here. Jedi Spirits may be trapped here, dangerous tricks left behind to prevent robbery. Ancient weapons or other objects of the Force still active. We need to clear out the tomb that interests us the most currently. An ancient structure made to resemble a full scale model of the Jedi Temple of Coruscant. It has to be cleared out before I would even think of sending anyone else in. I know archeology isn't your normal priority but this is a Tier One asset we've just acquired. It has to be done, Gentlemen. Now, suit up and report to the hanger bay. You are forbidden from taking explosives of any kind, or any weapon other than your light sabers. Dismissed."

Bodhi, three hours after arrival.

The Stealth Shuttle descended through the atmosphere and everyone on the team winced. The positive aspects of the Force were in full strength here, like a beating heart, the planet's aura pulsed gently to the team's perceptions, a sleeping giant that had finally been stirred from slumber.

"Hey guys, you know what we should do? We should totally go to the bathroom on the first priceless artifact we see," the Executioner suggested.

"You do that, I'll throw you in the brig personally," Evra replied casually, checking his light saber as C'bal piloted it to the designated landing site.

"Aw, you're no fun Evra."

"A pity," Carra sighed. "There's so much we could learn from this place if we were not so focused on fighting. I hope greed does not do to Bodhi what it did to Korriban."

"I suspect it's a little late for that sentiment, Blondie," Tul-Pa spoke with typical snideness. "It is already doing it. Would we be here if it weren't?"

"Tul-Pa's got a point, Carra," C'bal said, surveying the surface, spotting the landing pad that had been set up by the DOOMSAYER technician's hours ago.

"Grow eyes in the back of your heads, guys. This place is probably a death trap," Evra said as the team exited the shuttle.

Sand as white as snow blew gently everywhere on this desert world. There wasn't howling winds, more like a silence gained from plugging one's ears. The sand didn't seem to make a crunching sound when it was stepped on. The sun was a bright white and made the surface of the desert glow, yet there seemed to be very little heat, barely above room temperature.

Their destination gleamed in the distance about half a kilometer away. The temple was magnificent, despite the fact that one spire surrounding the main temple spire had broken off and fallen to the side. The material used in its construction seemed to be marble-like in nature, with a rich swirl of dark color riveting it's way through the material. The highest point in the temple gleamed with a bright point of light, likely a capstone of some kind.

"This place gives me the creeps already," Evra said, trudging through the soft sand and to the makeshift outpost where a man in a black uniform and t-shaped visor mask awaited.

"I see you finally arrived," the man said, his vocoder rough and static filled. "I got some bad news."

Evra rolled his eye. "And so it begins. What's wrong?"

"One team of scientists couldn't wait to get inside. Said they didn't need a bunch of soldiers for the archeological discovery of the century."

"Famous last words," the Executioner chuckled.

"And you didn't stop them?" Evra nearly barked.

"I had orders to wait for you. I ain't cut out for whatever's inside that place, anyways."

"Kek," Evra spat. "You got some speeder bikes we could borrow?"

The operative jerked his thumb behind him. Five speeder bikes lay at their fueling stations, polished and ready for use.

"Good luck," the operative said as Evra and the gang hopped on to their transports.

"With luck like this, who needs misfortune?" Evra said under his breath as he jumpstarted his bike and rocketed off to the temple, the rest following closely.

The main doors to the temple already lay slightly ajar as Evra and the gang pulled up. Evra got his light saber out, brushing sand off his black jumpsuit and blaster-proof vest and ventured into the darkness inside.

"Anybody else getting weird ass vibes from this place?" C'bal asked as he peered in.

The inside entry hall seemed bare save for a checkered floor with a white square/brown square pattern.

"Seems empty-" Tul-Pa said, stepping forward.

"Tul-Pa, wait! NO!" Carra yelled.

As soon as Tul-Pa stepped on a brown square, she flew upward, yelling in surprise and then screaming as she "fell" into the darkness above.

"Tul-Pa!" Evra yelled, activating a small flashlight and shining it at the ceiling.

The whole team stared in surprise.

"Well...that's interesting," the Executioner mumbled to no one but himself.

The ceiling had been lined with rocky looking, jagged spikes. Tul-Pa was impaled on one of them, the spikes going right through her abdomen, and she was actually moaning in pain, the first time anyone had seen a physical attack of that nature do anything more than force her to rethink her strategy.

Next to her were about six other bodies, recent, in white uniforms and coats. That had to be the missing scientists.

"Would you idiots stop gawking and help me down?!" Tul-Pa roared, wincing.

"Calm down, Tul-Pa, I got you," Carra assured, stretching forth a hand and concentrating.

Tul-Pa screamed as she was slid off the spikes by the Force. One spike however, broke off and remained lodged in her.

Carra gently drew Tul-Pa back to the ground, where the whole team took hold of her and placed her on the ground.

Tul-Pa was shaking, going into spasms of pain. Parts of her had reverted to black ooze that was sliding away from her body at a disturbing rate, leaving a skeletal appearance in certain areas.

"We have to get that spike out of her," Carra said, trying not to panic. "If I'm right, it's compromising her molecular structure."

Evra reached for the rock like spike, but it seemed to react to his presence, sinking backward into Tul-Pa's body, causing her to scream even louder.

"What the hell is this thing?" Evra asked. "It looks like meteor rock but..."

"JUST GET IT OUT!" Tul-Pa yelled, the lower half of her turning to ooze and spilling everywhere, writhing as it tried to collect itself.

Evra reached out quickly and grabbed the spike before it could retreat and gave a mighty shout, yanking it out of her and tumbling backward and hitting the back of his head, falling just short of where the checkered floor began. Snarling in pain, he tossed the spike away. It landed on a brown square and instantly flew back upward.

Clutching his head from the throbbing pain in the back of his skull, Evra went back over to Tul-Pa, who was busily reconstituting herself, albeit at a much slower rate than normal. When she was whole again, she stood, helped up by Carra and C'bal.

"What the hell was that thing?" Tul-Pa asked.

"A security measure," Carra explained. "I-I mean, Revan, used to read about this stuff all the time. Jedi were more hardcore about their tombs than the Sith were. Only a true Jedi could expect to walk in and out unscathed. This place...I don't think we're welcome."

"Oh, really? Thanks for the warning," Evra grumbled. "Tul-Pa? You okay?"

"As long as I don't get stabbed again by whatever the hell that was, I'll be fine. Force, I haven't been in that much pain in a long time," Tul-Pa answered angrily.

"But how do we get across the floor?" C'bal asked.

"I got an idea," the Executioner said merrily. He picked up a piece of rubble and tossed it at a brown square. The rubble flew upward before the Mandalorian caught it with the Force and brought it back to his hand.

This time he tossed it at a white square. It stayed on the square.

"I think we have our answer," the Mandalorian spoke happily. "Stay on the white squares."

The team made their way slowly across the floor.

"If one of us trips, try not to grab somebody," Evra said. "Common courtesy, people. We live and die on it."

Reaching the end of the checkered floor to an ancient, circular door. Evra kicked the seam in the middle of it.

The door parted, swinging wide and every one stared at the strange sight.

Rows of figures stood at the ready, all clutching weapons and wearing robes and chainmail armor, still gleaming after untold centuries. The figures lined the whole of the giant chamber, and the staircases and balconies lined above the floor. Trees served to guard the entry in, but they seemed not to be made of plant material. Rather, they seemed to be composed of glass, with telltale threads of silver-likely mercury-running through the intricate veins the trees had been made with.

Evra stepped forward, shining a light on one of the people.

It was clay. That was all it was. A giant clay figure.

"I haven't known they exist but for ten seconds and they already freak me out," C'bal spat, walking forward.

His walking seemed to have stirred something. One of the faces of the clay warriors-no two were exactly alike-broke off, revealing a long concealed, mummified face.

C'bal yelped and jumped back. "Ew ew ew ew ew ew, they're all mummies!" he screeched.

"Kid, the look on your face was priceless," the Executioner chuckled.

Carra giggled. "I kinda have to agree. It was hilarious."

"You're not helping!" C'bal snapped. "Do we have to go further? Can't we just bail and say we did the job? I hate mummies, by the way."

Evra gave a bemused shake of his head. "Sorry, C'bal. We gotta do this."

C'bal gave a groan. "This job gets more exasperating every day."

The team started to work their way past the statue mummies.

"These statues are...strange," Carra began. "I sense some small whorl of Force energy from all of them, but there doesn't seem to be any purpose to it..."

"Maybe it's their souls," Tul-Pa suggested.

"Unlikely. Despite what you heard from Bluefin earlier, Jedi ghosts rarely stay in the material realm. They would have to have been severely traumatized, or have their resting place defiled horribly in order for that to happen. No, Tul-Pa, this is something else," Carra replied, sneezing from the dust in the room.

"Know-it-all," Tul-Pa snorted.

"Hey, I think I might actually know who these mummified suckers are," the Executioner spoke up.

Evra stopped and turned. "How would you know that?"

"My father. He participated in the raid on Ossus when that blithering idiot Exar Kun was still giving every one trouble. When he was looting and pillaging, he came across an old mural dedicated to the 'Martyrs of Ossus'. It seemed it wasn't the first time Ossus had been raided and destroyed."

"What makes you think the guys here are connected to that?" C'bal asked.

"The chainmail these guys are wearing. It was only worn by Jedi who trained on Ossus, at least up until sixty years ago. My father had a whole bunch of Jedi armor as booty. I'm telling you, these guys are the Martyrs of Ossus."

"Why are these guys martyrs?" Tul-Pa asked.

"Couldn't tell you. That was just what my Father said the mural called them."

"Guys," Evra signaled, spotting a giant hole in the middle of the chamber. It was big enough for them all to go in at once. Evra could spot small twinkling white lights in its recesses. The statues around the hole had been knocked down.

"Now what do you make of that?" Evra wondered out loud as his team gathered around them.

"It looks like it was blasted up...from beneath," the Executioner noted, peering into the opening.

"And now the creep factor goes up by a factor of ten. Lovely," Carra muttered. "Who goes in first?"

Evra's team all instantly pointed fingers at him.

"Hey, this isn't a democracy!" Riordo barked indignantly. "Ex, you go in."

"Wuss," the Executioner grumbled, pulling out his double-saber. "Once more into the breach and all that nonsense..."

Evra and the others followed close as the Executioner dropped through the opening, where the twinkling lights turned out to be gently glowing white crystals, providing the minimal illumination through the rock tunnel.

"Hmmm...I've seen tombs on Korriban with a similar set up. A small service tunnel is used for workers and then covered or blocked after construction is complete. It was never meant to be used again after the tomb was finished."

"So who the hell was in here after the tomb was completed?" C'bal asked.

"Whoever it was, they departed this place a long time ago, for a system far, far away," Tul-Pa replied. "The air is stale."

"This place reeks of old anguish," Carra observed.

They moved forward through the winding service tunnel until they saw more light at the end. Stepping out, Evra was once more struck speechless.

It was obviously a tomb. A very important tomb, of a very important person. The twinkling white crystals seemed to serve as a starry sky, as Evra could make out unmistakable, though unfamiliar, constellation figures. Rivers and lakes of mercury were arranged in tight circular and winding patterns as far as the eye could see. Great statues of robed men and women lined the great, half kilometer long bridge with a small stone obelisk at the end. One had toppled over into a mercury lake, its raised sword still sticking out, like a defeated sentinel of all who would dare violate the sanctity of this lost place. More of the strange glass trees were here, lining the bridge and planted in the center of the lakes. The darkened light gave the whole place a gentle blue glow.

"I'll say this for the Jedi, when it came to building a final resting place, these guys didn't screw around," Tul-Pa.

"I wonder who's buried here?" Evra spoke finally. "This person must have done something to deserve all this."

"And yet, they were buried underneath the temple. Odd," C'bal croaked, venturing to the bridge.

"Why's that odd?" Evra asked.

"I mean, just look at this place," C'bal answered, gesturing to everything around them. "If I had done enough to earn this kind of final resting place, don't you think I'd want it somewhere more...notable. I would want it admired, not shoved in the basement like an unwanted stepson."

"Probably got a point there," the Executioner replied. "Ah, well, let's start looting."

The team stepped onto the bridge.

The first thing that alerted Evra that something was wrong was the way the light from the ceiling's crystals started to spread over everything, smothering the obelisk the statues, the bridge, and then finally, them...

Evra blinked a few times as the bright light left him.

He was greeted with the choking smoke of burnt flesh. He looked around. They weren't in the tomb anymore. The forest burned in the distance, the dreaded orange glow getting ever closer. He couldn't tell whether it was day or night: The smoke blotted out the sky. He could here the discharge of weapons fire in the distance.

"Guys, you alright?" he asked turning around, doing a double take when he saw what had happened.

His team was now dressed vastly differently than they had come. The Executioner's armor was now a polished cream color, with a white half-cape draped over his left shoulder. The red of the visor was now changed to a robin's egg blue. He was holding an ornate double sword, the hilt crafted to look like ivy was growing along the length of the blade. Tul-Pa was now wearing a white, T-shaped leather article of wear that now covered only the bare essentials and her long dark legs were covered by white knee high boots. Her lance saber had been replaced by an elegant pearl white pole-axe, as ornate in design as the Executioner's own weapon.

C'bal's dark blue jumpsuit and light saber had been replaced by a set of dark blue Jedi robes, with strange red calligraphy in some language Evra could not read stitched into them. His weapon was replaced by a wickedly curved broadsword with a forked tip. The sword's metal was so black no light seemed to be able to shine off it.

Carra was the most altered, however. She was covered in a white and brown armored robe set, with a slim chainmail hood and a steel colored mask with a slim visor. It was unavoidably similar in comparison to Darth Revan's armor. Her sword was and elegant, single edged blade with a curved hilt of white enamel.

Evra looked down and saw that his black jumpsuit and vest had been replaced with a set of olive green robes with a shirt of chainmail worn underneath. He also blankly realized he too, was holding a replacement weapon. It was a double-edged sword, polished to a mirror sheen, with a picture of a happy face etched into the blade.

"Okaaaayyyy, this is weird. Where are we?" Evra asked.

"No clue," Carra said. She glanced down at a puddle and saw her reflection.

"This is SO not cool," she said.

"I don't know, I could probably pick up more women if I was dressed like this," the Executioner chuckled.

"I look frakking badass!" C'bal exclaimed in oily toned excitement.

"Eh, a bit brighter in color than I am used to, but I can deal. You don't look so bad yourself, Family Man. Olive drab seems to suit you," Tul-Pa spoke.

"Get this off me! I HATE looking like Revan," Carra spat angrily

"Oh, c'mon, Semi-Revan, how are you gonna turn down free threads?" the Executioner teased.

Carra glared at the Mandalorian. "Don't ever call me 'Semi-Revan' ever again, Mando, or I will not be responsible for the ass-kicking you get."

The Executioner gave a shake of his head. "Nobody takes a joke these days," he bemoaned.

"Guys!" Evra snapped, making everyone focus. "What happened? Where are we?"

A burst of static startled Evra from behind and he gazed down at a set of dead men and women in Jedi robes and armor.

He blinked in surprise as he realized the burst of static had come from an EXTREMELY ancient handheld shortwave two-way radio. It was bulky, rectangular, and had a thick cable from a black boxy battery attached to it It's green display glowed gently.

"All surviving Jedi respond! I repeat, all surviving Jedi Knights respond!" a gruff voice barked.

Evra went over and after a moment of looking over the unfamiliar controls, Evra hit the respond button.

"Roger, go ahead. We hear you. Orders?" Evra asked, shrugging at his team as they all stared.

"Thank the Force! The Ossus Academy has been overrun! We are regrouping at the Caves of Introspection! You are to regroup with the Grandmaster at those coordinates! Do you copy?"

"Roger, solid copy. Uh, relay coordinates to Caves, over."

"Five kilometers north of where I'm picking up your radio transmission. There's also an All Terrain Vehicle not too far off from where you are. A bit east of your position. Maintain radio silence until further notice. Over and Out. May the Force be with you."

Evra strapped the radio to himself and picked up a slim carbine with a box clip. The iron sights were large and prominent and the design was rugged, with a muted green color on the stock and grip.

"So, uh, did we time travel or something?" the Executioner asked.

"No. Doesn't explain the the change in outfit, which I might add, I can't seem to remove," Tul-Pa replied.

"I think we might be in some sort of combat simulation, albeit an extremely sophisticated one," C'bal supplied, thumbing the edge of his saber.

"He mentioned the Ossus Academy. If this is a simulation, could this be a reenactment of the raid perpetrated by Exar Kun?" Carra asked.

Evra shook his head.

"Somehow I don't think so. If it was a simulation of that, then all the Jedi here would be equipped with light sabers. And since when was the last time you saw a Jedi wear chainmail? Or use swords? Or radios? This rifle? It's a slug thrower," Evra responded grimly, gesturing to his new weapon. "This is too old to have been used in the Exar Kun war. Most blade weapons aren't as ornate as ours. If this IS a simulation, it's one of a battle much older than that."

"This must be what I was talkin' about earlier," the Executioner added, snorting. "Guess we're about to find out how the 'Martyrs of Ossus' earned their name."

They suddenly heard a large rumble that vibrated the ground beneath their feet. Then another. And another. It was coming closer to them.

"What the hell is that?" Tul-Pa wondered out loud.

"Head for the trees, unless you want to find out," Evra growled, sprinting for the nearest pine. The team followed suit and crouched behind trees waiting.

Evra peeked from behind his cover and found himself wishing he hadn't.

He spotted four armored Jedi running for their lives out of the other side of the forest and into the clearing Evra's team had just ran out of.

What followed them was a behemoth of metal, it towered over the forest, five times the height of the tallest trees. It rolled on six great wheels. Evra and his whole team could have easily fit inside the center of just one of those wheels. It had a torso of black metal, with a cone-shaped 'head' that housed a giant red viewport, with a large search light mounted on its left shoulder and a great smooth bore cannon on its right. Its arms contained a plethora of rocket launchers, cannons, and rapid fire slug throwers mounted under two very large, three clawed hands.

When the massive warbot spotted the fleeing Jedi, its right arm immediately came down on them, smashing into them, brutally grinding them into the forest floor like insects, when the hand lifted away, gore smeared across it.

"Democracy is non-negotiable," a large voice speaker called out from the bot in Huttese.

Evra quickly went behind cover as the giant mechanical beast ran search lights over the area to where they were hiding, drowning out all color except for the shadows playing off one another as the searchlight danced across the trees.

Finally, it started to roll away.

"Oh, hell no," Tul-Pa snorted. "I do NOT get paid enough for this job."

"C'bal, say we were killed in the simulation. Would we actually die in real life?" Evra asked.

C'bal shrugged. "Heck if I know, Boss. What I do know is I sure don't wanna find out."

"We should destroy that thing just to be badasses," the Executioner suggested with murderous glee.

"One thing at a time, Ex," Evra chided. "First, we get to these caves. Let's find that vehicle. Guy on the radio said it was a bit east of us."

After a few short minutes of walking, the team came across it.

It was brown and white, and there was a large cannon and multibarreled slug thrower mounted on top. It was sleek and bullet shaped, with four large wheels and an armored viewport in the front.

"I call weapons," the Executioner said happily.

"I'll ride flakgun," Tul-Pa said.

"You always ride in front. I wanna ride in front," Carra spoke tersely.

And I wanna pilot this time," C'bal said.

"I'm piloting," Evra snapped. "Tul-Pa you rode in front last time. Carra gets to ride up front." As he said this, he marveled at the absurd immaturity of the conversation. "C'bal, you can't pilot worth kek."

"Says you," C'bal grumbled.

Carra did a small jig and clasped her fist in victory.

"Yes. I finally get to ride in front," she said happily.

Evra rubbed the bridge of his nose in annoyance. "Everyone get in."

The interior was cramped, and much to Evra's surprise and displeasure when he popped open the large side hatch, there was the body of a dead Jedi at the piloting wheel. He pulled it out. He hoped the guy hadn't been dead long, or this would be a REALLY smelly trip.

The Executioner took hold of the small weapons console in the back, while Tul-Pa and C'bal clambered into the small seats behind the front seats. Finally, he and Carra got in the front seats. The hatch closed and Evra activated the controls. The engine rumbled to life. Evra could smell diesel.

"Damn, we really are in a long time ago," Evra mumbled as he started to move the vehicle north.

It wasn't long before he cleared the forest and got a view of the vista beyond through the viewport, settled nicely at the valley below.

The Academy was a great, cathedral like building with a number of towers with bulbous domes, seven in all, surrounding it. It seemed to be composed of a glossy black material, obsidian like, with soft white lines criss-crossing it. The colored glass windows were blown out or melted by fire. Cannon fire shattered the front of the temple and he could see the anti-aircraft guns still firing from the top of the building at the dragonfly shaped fighters that streaked over head, their primitive ion engine leaving a trail of blue in the smoking, burning sky.

The giant cruiser overhead looked almost organic by modern standards. It was similar in shape to that of a resting grasshopper, except its legs had been replaced with giant cannons, and the great hind legs were actually giant arc generators. The 'head' of the ship seemed to have multiple cannons as well as its main gun housed in it. The thing was a mottled brown color, with the Republic sigil clearly painted on the side.

"Just how far did this damn simulation take us back?" Tul-Pa asked.

Evra suddenly remembered Bluefin's conversation about the beginnings of the Republic.

"This is the siege Bluefin talked about, remember?"

"Huh," Tul-Pa grunted. "Talk about coincidence, Family Man."

"There is no such thing," Carra said ominously.

Evra turned the vehicle down the road, when he spotted another vehicle, much like his own, except a larger cannon was mounted on top. It turned its gun towards Evra's vehicle. It had the Republic sigil on the side.

"Light 'em up, Ex," Evra ordered.

Their own gun fired overhead and the enemy vehicle exploded, flipping over on the road, blocking it.

Carra used the Force to lift the burning wreck away and tossed it off the road. Evra sped up now, careful to take note of the sheer cliff that was on their left. One false move...

The ancient gyro-craft that came whirling up over the cliff face as they drove looked like a smaller version of the giant ship overhead, save for a set of spinning blades that provided lift as it hovered. It locked onto them instantly.

"KEK!" Evra yelled, speeding up as the gyro-craft fired its slug thrower cannon at them, blowing the road up behind them and causing some of the cliff above the team to come crashing down, denting the vehicle. A sharp, heavy piece punched through the ceiling and inches away from C'bal's face.

"Don't worry, I don't need to change my underwear yet," C'bal joked.

"Ew. Just...ew, C'bal," the Executioner muttered.

"I said I didn't need to change it YET, dummy," C'bal shot back.

"Will you shut up and fire, Ex?!" Evra shouted, dodging the enemy craft's rockets. The pilot of the Gyro got smart and fired a rocket in front of them.

Evra barely managed to react, flooring the gas pedal and bounding over the giant crater in the road. He heard the screech of medal as he landed. The Gyro pursued relentlessly, peppering them with fire from its mounted slug throwers.

"Ex, fire the damn cannon or we're dead!" Evra roared.

"Almost...there. Locked on!" the Mandalorian yelled firing both his main gun and slug throwers at the Gyro.

The cannon shot slammed into the side of the Gyro, and smoke immediately began pouring from the wounded beast, it's engines shrieking as it struggled to stay aloft, before plunging back down to the valley from where it came, exploding as it did so.

"Score one for us," C'bal chuckled.

Evra had stopped the vehicle, clutching his chest. The heart was beating so fast it almost felt like it was trying to escape his ribcage.

"Nice work," he breathed. "A little less banter during this sort of thing would also be nice."

"Not on your life, Evra," C'bal replied crossly. "We'd hate doing this sort of work if we couldn't make jokes about it."

"He's right Evra. I myself would be depressed if I didn't get my little victories every now and then out here," Carra agreed.

Evra stared at her before sighing and starting the vehicle again.

Sometime later, they finally reached their destination.

The Caves of Introspection were literally caverns dug into the side of a mountain. They pockmarked the base of it and there were large stone steps leading up to all of them. Flowers grew freely everywhere and the cherry blossom trees that weren't splintered and on fire looked incredible.

Dead Jedi lay strewn about at the bottom of the cave complex. Soldiers in dirty, off white armor with orange pauldrons on the right shoulder strode over them, advancing on the steps to the cave even as its Jedi defenders fired their slug throwers.

Evra winced as he realized how strange the situation was.

He was technically fighting on the Jedi's side at the moment.

"Ex, gun the soldiers down," he ordered.

"Copy," the Executioner replied merrily, firing the weapon on the vehicle.

The soldiers screamed in surprise as cannon fire and slugs rent organs from bodies, limbs from torso, and heads from necks, some tried to return fire but were shredded by the withering volley of the Executioner's aim.

Evra popped open the vehicle hatch and he and his team climbed out.

A Jedi in a chainmail hood and dark brown robes leaped down from his position on the cliffs. His face was young but serious, his hair was cut close to the scalp and he had slightly pale skin. He held his rough, leather wrapped double edged sword in an inverted manner, the tip pointing out from his right shoulder.

"You the guys I talked to on the radio?" he asked in a rough, gravelly tone.

Evra nodded. "Where's the Grandmaster?"

The Jedi gestured with his head back up to the cave complex. "Deep within the cave complex. We've driven them back for now, but I think they're regrouping for another assault. We got maybe an hour before they try this again."

"I see. By the way, me and my team encountered some sort of war machine back in the forest..."

"Oh. That. You and everybody else has seen it. We're still trying to figure out how to take it down," the Jedi grunted.

"Why'd the Republic turn against us?"

"Well, it isn't quite the Republic. Its Republic Rebels led by Ahkmoset the Hutt, our former first Chancellor. Everyone attacking us is part of a galactic minority that thinks the Jedi are a threat to stability. Ungrateful bastards. We're the ones safeguarding it! And it isn't like the main faction is all that thrilled about us either. You must have had trouble as much as I have helping the ordinary citizen when they flee in terror. You know they're having us and other Force users burned at the stake on the more isolated rim worlds?"

"I heard," Evra replied, impressed by how realistic the simulation was.

"I swear, sometimes I wonder whether or not we should have backed the Republic. It has gotten us nothing but problems," the Jedi replied angrily.

"Marek!" another, dark skinned male Jedi called out from a cave entrance above.

The Jedi Evra had been talking to turned upward. "What is it, Windu?"

"The Grandmaster wants to see you and your buddies up here! She's got an assignment!"

Marek turned back to Evra. "You guys had better follow me."

Marek led Evra and company through the darkened cave tunnels, with dirty, swinging light fixtures shining dimly in the filthy and cramped conditions. Evra saw injured Jedi coughing and bleeding all along the walls, some with their arms in makeshift slings, or their legs in splints. Some had already passed away, and were simply waiting to be carried off, having voided their bowels as they died. The smell made Evra suppress his gag reflex.

"This is a hell of a simulation," C'bal whispered grimly.

"This is totally awesome. Reminds me of how I celebrated my birthday on Dxun," the Executioner gushed. "Got me a toy stuffed with plastic explosive. Nice looking toy. Had buttons for eyes."

"Shut up, Ex," Evra growled.

They finally reached a larger chamber in the cave system. It looked like it had originally been some sort of meditation room, but now seemed to serve as a makeshift communications center. A dozen devices that hadn't seen use in thousands of years were set up haphazardly all along the inner walls. Injured Jedi scurried about, carrying stacks of reports on paper.

At one comm station stood a woman in a long silk robe of a muted yellow color, the hood was drawn over her head, and black gloves were drawn tightly over the hands. The woman turned around and revealed she was wearing a golden mask, molded expertly to fit the face underneath it,, yet hiding any distinguishing features, not entirely unlike the mask used by Darth Revan. A pair of white wings were painted onto the surface and covered the length and width of the front of the mask, which had two rectangular slots to see out of. So this was the Yellow Sage.

"You are the ones who reached the caves?" the Sage asked, her voice oddly quiet but having a slight accent that seemed to make one pay attention more whenever a word issued from the voice that owned it.

"Yes, Grandmaster," Evra answered, playing along with the simulation. "What service do you require of us?"

"The Republic Rebels have made their move. They seek to kill the majority of us here, now. If Ossus falls, any remaining Jedi off the planet will be quickly hunted down and killed by whatever remaining assassin's Ahkmoset can muster. They hit most of our communications equipment, save for what we managed to save and put in here. They haven't managed to destroy the long range hyperspace radio in the main temple. I have it on good authority that there are still some Jedi defending the communications chamber in the main tower of the temple. What I need is someone with enough courage to try and break the road barricades they've set up to prevent reinforcements, reach the defenders with any repair supplies they might require, and divert enough attention so I can muster enough strength for a counter-attack."

"Gee, you want a side order and a drink to go with that?" Tul-Pa asked, rolling her eyes.

The Yellow Sage stared at her. "This is a serious matter, young Knight."

Evra held up a hand. "She gets the picture. When do we leave?"

"As soon as possible," The Sage answered. "Take Marek with you in case you run into any complications. And before you go, present your swords."

Evra and the others held out their blades.

The Sage ran her finger along the edges, drawing blood on each sword.

Evra's eyes widened as the blood on his sword began to pulsate, throbbing as it spread all over the sword, veins forming along the length.

"My mark, my power, now flows through your blade. I will see what you see. Should your strike down an enemy, my power shall seize control of their nervous system and they will serve you. It will infect whole areas should you wish it. Go now, save your brothers and sisters."

Evra nodded. "We won't fail you. Team, we move in five minutes."


	14. Ye olde timey warbot destruction

"Anybody think this mission is suicide besides me?" C'bal asked as they drove on the road.

"For once, I agree with you, Freak show," Tul-Pa answered.

"Trust in the Force, and we will succeed," Marek said quietly.

"Do we 'have' to take him with us? He's cramping our style," the Executioner grumbled. Marek was taking up space in the middle seat behind the pilot's chair, forcing Tul-Pa and C'bal to be crammed against the sids of the interior and the extra weight pushing the seats back and into the weapons station where the Executioner was. "Stupid Simulation."

"Simulation? What simulation?" Marek asked, turning around.

"See that? That right there. That's what pisses me off about the whole thing. The damn sim is so into itself it doesn't even know it's a sim. Smug computerized bastard..." the Mandalorian trailed off. "And why does he hold his sword upside down? That's how retards hold it. If someone's standing behind him, they'll get their eye poked out."

"Well, you're a retard," The Marek sim replied, much to everyone's surprise.

Not one to allow a simulation the last word, the Executioner redoubled his verbal assault. "Your mother's a whore."

"You are the product of a coupling with a goat," Marek replied.

Everyone on the team except the Executioner started to laugh.

"Hey, frak you!" the Mandalorian angrily exclaimed, pulling out his blaster and shooting Marek in the face. The brain matter and blood splashed against C'bal's face as Marek slumped over.

"Hey, not cool, Ex! Not cool!" C'bal exclaimed, trying to get it off his face.

"Agh! You got it everywhere! Gross!" Carra said. "I think I'm gonna throw up..."

"Why couldn't you have shot him AFTER we were out of the vehicle?" Tul-Pa roared indignantly, wiping the blood off her face and chest.

"Did you have to shoot him?!" Evra yelled, nearly losing control of the vehicle.

The Executioner wasn't listening to any of this. He just started yelling at the corpse.

"Call me the product of goat coupling, eh?! Well, what now, schutta!? What now!?" he shouted.

A computerized voice overhead rang out.

"SIMULATION RESETTING..."

A bright light flashed and suddenly the interior of vehicle was good as new with Marek still alive.

"What are you staring at?" Marek asked, turning to look at him.

"Ha ha," Carra said.

The Executioner stared. He turned back, folding his arms.

"Stupid simulation," he grumbled.

"Okay guys, I see the temple. Heads on a swivel," Evra ordered.

They heard the rumble to their side.

"Aw, kek, its back!" Marek yelled.

The giant warbot burst through the forest on the left side of the road. Evra swerved to the right as a gigantic hand tried to pick the vehicle up.

"Ex! Fire! FIRE!" Evra yelled, speeding up.

The vehicle fired it's main gun at the giant machine's red eye. It didn't even crack. The Executioner fired a volley of everything at the torso. Not a dent.

"Evra, old chap? I just thought you might want to know...I can't hurt this thing," the Executioner admitted.

"Would now be a good time to put our head between our legs?" C'bal asked.

In spite of the lethality of their present situation, as Evra gunned the engines, he had to know why C'bal asked.

"Why would we wanna do that?" he inquired.

"So we could kiss our asses goodbye," C'bal answered blankly.

"Oh, THAT is funny," Marek chuckled.

"No way you could do that without breaking your neck," Carra asserted, wincing as a cannon shot from the warbot pounded the ground behind them.

"Not true. Had a guy from my clan once who did that. He was drunk though, so he ended up pulling a muscle," the Executioner added.

"Tul-Pa could do it," C'bal suggested.

Tul-Pa snapped her head towards him. "Only in your wildest dreams, Freak show."

C'bal winked at her. "Kinda the point," he replied with a sly smile.

"You know Jedi are supposed to not focus on impure thoughts?" Marek asked.

"Betcha he's got dirty holozines under his simulated bed," the Executioner chuckled.

Marek turned to look at him. "No I don't!"

"Do too."

"Do not!"

"Do too."

"Guys, focus!" Evra shouted. "Did you forget about the damn warbot?!"

"Oh, the warbot! What do we do about that?" Carra asked.

"We don't have weapons heavy enough to destroy it. The only way we're gonna stop that huge bastard is a distraction and a good ol' boarding action," the Executioner answered.

Evra thought a moment. "I got an idea. Tul-Pa, Ex, open the side hatch and get on top of the vehicle. You too, Carra."

"Then what?" Tul-Pa asked.

"Hang on until you see a chance to jump onto that damn thing," Evra answered. He then swerved the vehicle around and drove as fast as he could to the giant death machine.

The Executioner, Tul-Pa and Carra scrambled out through the side hatch and onto the top, leaving their swords behind. It would have been too difficult to carry them.

The warbot fired its weapons at the charging vehicle, peppering the vehicle with slug thrower rounds as it passed through the large space between the two vehicles.

The trio leapt onto the giant wheels of the machine, crawling up the shock absorbers and into the machinery proper.

The warbot aimed one of its arms at the vehicle, spinning its torso back to face the vehicle.

"Liberty is in danger! And the Jedi are responsible," the warbot bellowed in Huttese. It raised one of its arms and left off a cluster of homing rockets, which streaked at a lethal velocity for Evra's transport.

Marek leaned out of the speeding vehicle through the open hatch and let loose a Force pulse that caused one of them to fail, detonating in the middle of the air, and taking the rest with it.

"Marek! C'bal! You next!" Evra ordered, turning the transport around, going for another suicide run at the bot.

Marek and C'bal did as they were told and clambered onto the roof. As Evra passed through the wheels, the two leapt onto the machinery.

Evra swore as the warbot unleashed swarms of cluster rockets at him, impacting the ground on all sides as he drove on the road, shredding open the right half of the vehicle in the front and nicking Evra's scalp with shrapnel.

One rocket finally came too close and smashed through the back, severing it and flipping what was left upside down.

Evra came to a second later, his seat harness suspending him upside down and smoke from the flaming engine making his eyes tear up and causing him to cough.

Disoriented, and panicking as he heard the rumble of the warbots wheels fast approaching, Evra unhooked the harness and smacked his head against the hull. He used a Force push to blow open the hatch closest to him, grabbing his sword and his rifle, and scrambling out of the wreck just as the warbot's wheels crushed it. He slung the rifle over his shoulder and kept his sword at the ready, still coughing.

He stumbled around half blind and choking from smoke inhalation before he heard the monstrous creaking of the warbot's arm screaming down on him.

He dodged to the right, stumbling, barely avoiding its massive fingers. His vision clearing, he spotted it raking the ground towards him and leapt onto it's hand, racing up it as quickly as he could as the warbot's arm lifted up into the air and he went vertical, jamming his sword into an open space at the warbot's wrist.

The warbot swung its arm and he hung onto the grip of his weapon for dear life, the g-force threatening to tear his arms out of their sockets.

When the swing stopped he was directly above the ground, the arm at the side of its terrible owner.

Before Evra could get his bearings, the swing started up again. He was glued to his sword handle, sweaty palms picking just that moment to make his grip start to feel slippery.

He couldn't do this all day. He didn't have the strength. He was amazed he had managed to hold on as long as he had already.

He had to attack _now._

When the arm was temporarily in a horizontal position. He began suicidally yanking the blade stuck in the joint right and left. He heard a shearing of metal and cable snapping. Damn, these swords were sharp.

He saw the giant hand above him lean forward, and not by its own will, the smell of burning ozone crackled as sparks issued from the joint.

As the arm went to vertical height, Evra concentrated all of his strength in the Force (Which wasn't much.) and let off a burst from his left arm that completely blew the hand clean off, tearing it from an arm the thickness of a Kashyykk tree.

It also tore him and his sword free, and he went flaying helplessly through the air before his body hit one of the guns on the arm.

Screaming as he felt a rib break from the impact, Evra barely managed to grab the mouth of the barrel with his right hand .

As he blankly wondered what he should now do, the arm began another swing to try and shake him off.

Thrusting his sword into the metal, he once again managed to hold on, though the searing pain in the side of his chest meant the broken bone was probably tearing a few muscles.

Desperate for a new strategy, and starting to have trouble breathing, he grabbed the barrel of the gun he had caught, pulling his sword out and slicing desperately at it when the arm had reached a vertical position.

The gun gave, falling away as Evra barely had time to jam his sword into the arm's surface.

slug thrower guns that heavy usually used explosive rounds. His idea, while extreme in how life threatening it was, nonetheless was a better option than any of the others he could contemplate.

He spotted the feed ramp where the rounds were loaded into the gun. Spotting them, he quickly pulled his sword out, leaping away with the Force as he let off a small bolt of lightning.

The blast was spectacular. All the rounds cooked and exploded at once, lashing the warbot's arm with bulbous fire and the shrieking of metal. Not only that, the heat cooked some of the rounds in the other, larger guns on its arm, causing them to explode and go off. The main trunk of the arm fell off, hitting the ground in flames.

Evra had no time to savor the amount of damage he had managed to do, or his rediculous amount of luck, because his leap was carrying him face first into the shoulder joint.

He slammed his sword int the space between the joint, grunting as his torso impacted against the rounded surface and broke another rib.

He had no strength left, his grip was already slipping on the sword handle.

His luck had...

His hand slipped from the hilt.

Just as he had begun to accept death, a slim dark hand caught his wrist, hauling him upward.

"Don't give up on me, yet, Family Man," Tul-Pa joked, pulling the injured man to the top of the warbots shoulder, and settling him against the warbot's giant spotlight.

"Tul-Pa," Evra breathed. "If anyone ever says you aren't a sight for sore eyes, punch them. Punch them hard. Knock some teeth out. Status report."

"We've taken the warbot. Turns out the damn thing was manned. They've got a bridge and everything. Kinda wrecked now, thanks to Bucket Head, but on the bright side, at least we can command a giant frakking warbot."

"I'm liking this simulation better and better," Evra laughed, coughing.

Tul-Pa let out a throaty chuckle and helped Evra to his feet. She threw open the hatch to the warbot's head and led him past a swath of primitive sensors and radar equipment into a wrecked bridge bathed in red light. The chairs looked stiff and straight. Not good for his ribs.

The deck was also covered in bodies. His team had made short work of them.

The Executioner was manning the weapons console. "Rerouting power to what weapons are left on this hunk. I think if I had given you enough time, you would have chopped the other arm off. Why couldn't you have been born a Mandalorian? My clan would have gotten a kick out of you."

"One of the mysteries of the universe, I guess," Evra replied, sitting down in the captain's chair as C'bal went to the pilot's seat. "You sure you can make this nightmare move?" Evra asked.

"These systems are simple. I'll have no trouble. And you say I suck at driving," C'bal answered.

"You can't even parallel park a speeder," Tul-Pa said dismissively.

"Says the woman constantly on the verge of being arrested for indecent exposure," C'bal replied, who was high-fived by Carra for the retort.

"Your _face _is an indecent exposure, Freakshow," Tul-Pa shot back, though it was becoming clear at this point she was simply starting to enjoy the verbal jousting between those she worked with.

"She's got you there," the Executioner chuckled.

"Don't make me take the can opener to you, Mando," C'bal fired back.

"Guys! Focus!" Evra ordered, instantly bringing them back on track.

"Do you guys bicker like this constantly?" Marek asked, leaning against the back, with his arms folded.

"Constantly," Evra answered. "Carra, Marek, since I kinda destroyed one of this vehicle's arms, you have to go out to the shoulder and provide support with Force powers. Hurl any debris you can lift at ground targets. Try and hold on. The ride's kind bumpy."

Carra and Marek nodded and set out for the warbot's shoulder.

"And what about me?" Tul-Pa asked quietly into Evra's ear. "Shall I whisper dirty things into your ear as we move along?"

"Tempting, but I don't need to divert any blood from my brain right now," Evra replied. "Carra and Marek could use a spotter though."

"Your loss," Tul-Pa replied mockingly, heading out to the shoulder. Evra sighed, trying to think of his wife, yet curiously becoming blank.

"Women troubles, Boss?" C'bal asked after Tul-Pa left.

"You don't know the half of it," Evra replied, wincing as he felt one of his broken ribs move against muscle. "And no, advice is not helpful. When it comes to her, I have foot-in-mouth syndrome."

"It's her legs, isn't it? That's what does it for me," C'bal admitted. "Oh, those long, long legs..."

"Legs? What about her rump? I could bounce a credit chit off it," the Executioner proclaimed. "What about you, Evra, old chap?"

"If you must know...it's her eyes. They're wild, untamed. Like they got secrets or something..." Evra replied quietly.

Both men turned to look at him.

"Boss," C'bal began. "I like you and all and I think you're smart but c'mon! I'm SURE you eventually noticed the eyes, but nobody stares at the eyes first for someone who wears stuff like that! That was the most retarded answer I've ever heard!"

"I concur. The eyes are not the first thing we Mandalorians look at. But then we're sexist and warmongering so you kinda have to expect that with us," the Executioner spoke up.

Evra stared.

"Alright, alright, I give up. It was her abs," he relented, reciting his truthful answer of her eyes in his mind.

"Oh, her abs! Don't get me started on those abs of hers..." C'bal trailed off, turning back to his console. "Where we off too, Boss?"

"Same as before. Jedi Temple. Double time it!" Evra ordered.


	15. End Reenactment

The Warbot's rumbling did no favors for Evra's broken ribs as they marched to the new theater of combat.

"Spotted tanks. Firing..." the Executioner trailed off at his console.

A holographic screen popped up in front of Evra and it showed a black and white image of tanks and troops moving on the ground below the warbot. The Jedi temple was a bout three kilometers ahead.

"Kill everything attacking that temple. I want nothing to move when you're done, Ex. Nothing," Evra ordered.

The Executioner chuckled. "Now THAT is an order I can get behind."

The tanks on Evra's screen exploded. The bridge shuddered as cannon fire was soon hitting the warbot's hull. Dragonfly shaped fighters were soon turning to intercept them.

As the warbot shuddered from multiple impacts, the Ex fired the remaining guns, scouring the surface with death and explosives.

As C'bal ran over ground forces with the massive wheels, he asked a question.

"So, Boss, what do you think Tall, Dark, and Sexy actually is?"

"That's between me and her, Adek," Evra replied sternly as he watched another artillery gun explode on his screen. The impacts against the warbot's hull grew louder. He was amazed they were having this conversation again.

"What, she told you?. How come she's opening up to you? She treats me with naked contempt!" C'bal complained.

"Maybe its because she knows your dietary habits. Y'know, the whole 'I gotta eat your brains' thing," the Executioner suggested as he took out a fighter with a missile from the warbot's arm. "Your breath probably smells terrible when you do it."

"It does not! Evra, does my breath smell bad when I eat people's brains?"

"I've never been brave enough to get closer when you do it," Evra replied, amused in spite of the situation.

"I mean, it isn't as though I never brush. And I'm polite, too! Evra, ain't I polite?"

"Why does it matter so much if she opens up to you-" Evra stopped as it dawned on him.

"Oh. I knew you thought she was hot and all but-you actually like her?"

"What's not to like?" C'bal asked, driving the warbot over yet another set of tanks. "She's got an attitude, she pulls her weight, and for frak's sake, have you seen what she wears?!"

"She's also got a vicious temper," Evra added.

"Like that's stopping you from getting all friendly with her, Evra," the Executioner chuckled, launching cluster bombs into the air to blow up the fighters streaking in on their position. One impact from a missile on the ground nearly threw Evra out of his seat.

"Damage to hydraulics!" C'bal yelled.

"Can we still move?" he asked, wincing as his ribs slid against muscle.

"Maybe another few minutes, after that, we'll be just grinding metal."

"Then full speed ahead! Run over everything! Fire all the guns! Drop all the bombs!" Evra barked.

"Yes SIR!" Both his team members replied at the same time.

Evra struggled out of his seat as the machine rumbled forward at top speed. He headed to the shoulder of the bot where the rest of the team was.

Popping open the hatch, he was greeted by the sight of Marek, Tul-Pa, and Carra warding off dozens of missiles and flak bursts with telekinesis.

"Evra, this is getting really bad! I don't know how much longer we can hold!" Carra yelled Force pushing a star fighter away, making it explode.

"A new plan would be really nice right about now!" Marek yelled.

"Get inside! This things operational capacity is running out!" Evra ordered.

The four scrambled back inside and Evra closed the hatch just as a missile hit the shoulder of the warbot.

Evra was helped to his feet by Tul-Pa as the warbot rumbled forward, firing at everything it could.

"New plan, guys." Evra said as he headed back to the command seat. "In a few minutes, we're going to be unable to move this heap effectively. C'bal, park the warbot right in front of the temple. It can soak up any remaining fire from the ground. All of us will precede to the comm room after we scavenge any remaining communications equipment from this heap. Ex and Carra will maintain perimeter defense while we make any needed repairs. Marek, you come with us. It's clear you can hold your own."

"Uh, I don't mean to throw a hydro spanner into the plan, but what about that damn cruiser overhead? What's stopping them from just firing on us when we transmit?" the Executioner asked.

"Ahkmoset won't order a bombardment. He'd risk hitting whatever remaining troops he has, which he needs this late in the rebellion. Besides, once the Yellow Sage marshals her strength...we won't need to worry about that cruiser," Marek replied with a smile.

"You'd better be right. We don't have much in the way of weapons," Evra spoke grimly.

A computerized voice rang out overhead.

"SIMULATION DISPENSING WEAPONS. HAVE A NICE DAY..."

The weapons the rest of Evra's team had been equipped with suddenly reappeared in their hands with a flash, covered in the bloody substance the Yellow sage had covered them in earlier.

"That's handy," the Executioner chuckled.

"What are you talking about?" Marek asked.

"Stupid simulation," the rest of the team said at once.

"Okay, guys, that's it, this thing isn't going anywhere," C'bal said, shutting the warbot's engines off.

The team had scavenged the comm equipment and any other electronics they could from the bridge, now held in a make shift sack made from Evra's robe, laving him in a chainmail shirt. Carra had partially healed his ribs but he would need more time to be able to fight at full strength.

"How do we get out of this thing?" Tul-Pa asked.

"I spotted an elevator when we took the bridge. We'll use that.

"Tul-Pa, take the parts. I'll lead point," Evra ordered, hefting his slug thrower rifle.

"You're still injured!" Carra protested.

"I'm the team leader. It's my responsibility," Evra grunted, wincing in pain.

Everyone proceeded to the large elevator hatch to the left of the bridge.

"Marek, you think the Seperatists will be able to launch a counter-attack?" Evra asked.

"Almost certainly. He's throwing everything he can at us," Marek answered, adjusting his hood. "So, who are you guys? I don't remember seeing you at the Ossus academy before.

"Oh, we're, uh, with another temple," Evra answered.

"When did we build another temple?" Marek asked. "The only one so far is Ossus."

"You really want the truth?" the Executioner asked. "Okay. We're a bunch of super duper double top secret awesome black ops Jedi. Evra's the leader, Tul-Pa's the schutta, C'bal's a zombie, Carra's the girl next door, and I'm the violent heavy weapons guy. We've filled out our niches rather nicely."

"I am NOT a zombie!" C'bal protested. "All I do is eat brains."

"And that makes you more endearing?" Tul-Pa asked sarcastically. "RIGHT. Of course it does."

Marek looked at them as the elevator started moving. "You guys are weird. Alright, fine, be mysterious. You don't exist. You never existed."

For some reason, Evra was troubled by that last statement.

The elevator opened and a ramp extended down between the wheels. The massive stone front doors of the Jedi temple lay ahead, broken and ruined by missile impacts. The path ahead was strewn with the boken frames of tanks and men and artillery guns. The smell of explosives and death was almost intolerable, the sky was choked with black smoke, a foulness Evra could literally breathe in.

"Move out," he ordered, taking point.

The team quickly made their way inside, past the broken statues of animals and Jedi, past the shattered busts of their orders most well known. The plants cultivated in the temple lay strewn about and burnt.

Evra's radio blared.

"This is the Sage," the accented female voice spoke. "Have you reached the Jedi Temple yet?"

"Affirmative. Proceeding with main objective,"

"Understood. I will arrive soon with reinforcements." The radio cut off and Evra again moved forward, coming across a large staircase. They moved up, all wincing at the uncomfortable creaking of the cracked steps.

"I give this place maybe fifteen minutes before it collapses. Structural integrity is nearly gone. Watch your step," the Executioner warned.

They continued past a number of rooms until Marek stopped at one. The circular automatic doors were sealed shut.

"We're here. Hey! Is anyone alive on the other side?" Marek asked, banging on the door.

"Marek! Is that you?" a young male voice with a high tone asked.

"Yeah. I brought repairs. How badly is the comm system damaged?"

"W'ere gonna need new transistors. A new signal integration module."

"We have both of those. Open the door," Marek said.

The doors slid open and one rodian Jedi staggered forward with a limp. The room he had been defending was exposed to open sky. Strewn about were several Jedi in various pieces. The Hyperspace Radio lay in one corner on the left, copper colored, a giant antenna with a sparking computer console full of dials and switches at the bottom.

"Are any others still alive?" Marek asked.

The Rodian Jedi shook his head. "I'm the last. Everyone else was killed by the artillery."

"Separatist sons-a-schuttas," Marek spat angrily. "They'll pay for all the Jedi they've killed today."

"How long is it going to take to repair?" Evra asked.

"You let me worry about that," Marek replied, taking the parts. I'll stay in touch on my radio, right now, you guys have to get to work. I sense Ahkmoset will be sending more soon, like in the next few minutes."

"Ex, Carra? Perimeter defense, like we discussed. Tul-Pa, guard Marek. C'bal, you help him. I'll head downstairs and hold them off with the others as long as possible," Evra ordered.

Everyone nodded and got to work.

Evra headed downstairs, cocking his rifle. He only had one thirty round clip. He would have to make it count. He set it for single shot and tensed when he heard the roar of fighters streaking over his position.

Marek radioed him. "Buy me five minutes! That's all I need! Five minutes!"

"You send that signal to the Republic as soon as you fix that thing! The structure is going to collapse!" Evra barked.

"Evra! They're releasing drop pods in front of the doors!" The Executioner yelled, waiting by the entrance. "Soldiers are pouring out by the dozens!"

Carra peaked out from cover and launched a massive Force pulse at the advancing soldiers.

The Executioner hefted his double-sword and charged at whoever was left standing, violently hacking and slicing through them and slamming Force pushes at whoever dared try to oppose him.

An explosion on the left caught Evra by surprise as more white armored, dirty soldiers streamed in.

Evra took aim and pulled the trigger.

Click. A slug jammed in the feeding chamber.

"Lucky me," Evra grumbled, pulling out his sword and charged, catching the soldiers attention as he gave a battle cry and leapt, plunging his sword deep into the chest of a male human soldier, young and pale skinned, with a military buzzcut.

The soldier screamed as the bloody substance the Yellow sage had infected his sword with spread all over the soldiers body, covering him in an ivy like growth as Evra pulled the sword out more out of surprise than combat instinct. He Force-jumped away from his victim as the other soldiers screamed and fired.

The Soldier who had been stabbed got up, now completely covered in the bloody, ivy-like growth.

Without fanfare, he drew his weapon and fired at his fellow soldiers, who screamed in pain and surprise as they were ambushed by their infected comrade.

The Infected soldier touched all of them, spreading the infection to their bodies as well. They rose up also, bowing to Evra and exited out the hole they had made, much to Evra's horror.

What kind of Jedi WAS the Yellow Sage?

"Four minutes to go! How we doing down there?" Marek asked over the radio.

"Go faster!" Evra shouted. "We're getting swarmed!"

"I'm working as fast as possible. Just hold on!"

"Whoever designed this simulation was a complete jerk," Evra muttered to himself.

A drop pod crashed through the stairs Evra was retreating back up. He tumbled forward, clipping his face on part of the railing and yelling as he felt one of his ribs snap once more.

He struggled up as the soldiers poured out of the large pod.

Not really caring at this moment what kind of Jedi the Yellow Sage was, he took it on faith that her power could infect whole areas, as she claimed.

He concentrated and plunged the sword into the ground beneath him.

The ivy-like infection spread all over the ground rushing to the soldiers and consuming them all in its horrific embrace. Fly-trap like growths spread along the walls as Carra launched more and more Force pulses at approaching soldiers outside the temple, while the Executioner continued slicing away at whoever he could reach, the infection on his own blade spreading to whoever he killed.

"Two minutes left!" Marek yelled over the radio.

"FIX IT! FIX IT!" Evra shouted, slicing at a soldier who tried to sneak up on him. He Force leapt back up to the remains of the staircase. The infection soon consumed and converted his latest victim.

"There's too many of them!" Carra yelled, growing exhausted. "And what is that growth?!

"The Sage's power, bailing us the frak out," Evra yelled. "FALL BACK!"

Carra did so, and the infectious growth seemed to actually avoid her as she leapt up to the balcony, followed by the Mandalorian a second later.

The shooting was every where, from seemingly all directions as Carra erected a Force bubble around the trio. Soldiers who breached the perimeter fired rifle mounted grenades at them only to be quickly consumed by the infectious growth.

"We did it!" Marek shouted! "Just signaled the nearest patrolling Republic cruiser! They'll be here in ten minutes!"

"We don't have ten minutes!" Evra yelled. "Abandon the Temple! I repeat, abandon the temple!"

"Get back here!" Marek yelled. "We can escape easily from where I am!"

The trio retreated quickly, Carra's bubble protecting them from stray shots and explosions as they retreated to the radio room.

"Good, you're all here. Let's escape through all these holes they blasted through the walls. It isn't a far drop, and they didn't cover this potential exit-" Marek began.

"Uh, guys?" C'bal said worriedly, pointing to the open sky through what remained of the ceiling.

Evra looked up. The Separatist cruiser was launching missiles. Dozens of them. heading right for the temple.

"Everyone. Force Bubble. Now," Evra ordered.

They all combined their strength to make the strongest bubble they could right as a flurry of missiles crashed all around them.

For Evra, the world went dark.

"Boss, wake up!" C'bal hissed.

Evra blinked open his one good eye.

"Status report," he moaned wearily, frightened at first that he couldn't see anything. Had he been blinded in the other eye as well?

"Alive if that's what counts," C'bal replied.

"I can't see. Where are we?"

"It's dark. Your sight will return in time. Marek said the blast caused us to crash through the temple catacombs. We just have to find our way out."

"Anybody else survive?"

"The rest are alive, save for that one Jedi we found. Broke his neck during the fall. Carra broke her arm but she healed it. Took care of your ribs while she was at it."

"Good to know," Evra replied, raising himself from the hard ground. Quickly, his sight adjusted. The hall seemed packed with large enough to lay a body down.

"Lights, anybody?" Evra asked.

"I got it," Carra answered, giving off a little spark of light in the palm of her right hand. It grew bright enough to show everybody dusting themselves off, as well as the large, rubble filled hole they had crashed through. The bodies on the sides lay wrapped in brown and white bandages.

Marek was tending to the body of the Rodian Jedi, whose neck lay in an unnatural position. He folded the man's hands onto his chest and straightened his body and neck out as best he could.

"Rest easy, my Jedi brother," he said sadly, closing the Rodian's eyes. "Is there no end to the killing? Will we Jedi have to face this kind of threat forever?"

"As long as we try to impose our vision on the galaxy, we will face it to our dying breaths," Carra said stoically.

"You almost passed for a Jedi master for an instant, Blondie," Tul-Pa commented snidely.

"I speak only the truth," Carra replied.

"Where's the nearest exit, Marek?" Evra asked.

"If I remember the layout right, we should be close to the Chamber of Contemplation. It is only a few hundred meters ahead, let's hurry," Marek answered, rushing forward.

As the team ran, they could hear sounds of battle approaching them. Swords clashing and slug throwers firing.

They came across another stone door, and Marek concentrated, using the Force to move the heavy stone doors aside.

The Chamber of contemplation was simply a large, oval room made of white marble at one end directly ahead of them was a large, rectangular brick, seemingly made of pure gold.

It had words inscribed on it:

THERE IS ANGER.

THERE IS HATRED.

THERE IS IGNORANCE.

THERE IS DEATH.

YOU MUST SIMPLY OVERCOME THESE EVILS.

In front of it was the Yellow Sage, single edged sword at the ready, and standing opposite her was a behemoth being, slug like, clad in glossy black armor with short, insect like legs carrying him. The helmet completely concealed the face behind a silvery tinted face plate. The being hefted a massive battle axe in one hand, made of simple wood and durasteel.

"Ahkmoset, I beg of you! Give up this madness! Your forces are routed! Throw down your arms and I will ask the Senate to be merciful. There is no need for you to die here!"

"I warned you not to interfere with the Republic!" Ahkmoset bellowed in Huttese. "You've ruined everything! EVERYTHING!"

"The Jedi brought peace and democracy to hundreds of war torn worlds!" The Yellow Sage protested, clenching her sword. "We've fed the hungry, clothed the naked, healed the sick..."

"Your fought for 'your' vision. Not the true vision of the Republic. NEVER our vision."

"If this is your vision, Ahkmoset, then I am right to oppose you! This is not what you once strove so heroically for! THIS IS NOT ORDER! THIS IS NOT PEACE!" The Sage shouted. "Please, my former chancellor, do not take this path!"

"I will not let the Jedi establish a theocracy! I will not allow them to violate the seperation of church and state any longer!"

"You cannot possibly hope to make it out of here! Even if you somehow do slay me, the rest of my knights will be waiting outside ready to kill you!"

Ahkmoset hefted his axe. "If I can kill you, I can at least deny your wretched kind a figurehead. Maybe the senate will finally get bold and take advantage, throw some leashes on your filthy Order before they get any more out of control. Of course," Ahkmoset countered, "I MIGHT be persuaded to throw down my weapons if you are willing to do one thing for me."

"What?" the Sage asked, suddenly hopeful sounding.

"My helmet is currently connected to the holonet I envisioned many years ago. It tells me that billions upon billions of sentients are connected, watching this broadcast. If you will say to me right now that you are a fraud and that the way of the Jedi is a lie, I will throw down my weapons and trouble you no further."

The Sage's stance hardened. "You will never convince me to believe that, Ahkmoset, much less say it."

"Fine. It was worth a try. I should have had you shot the instant you walked into the Senate Chambers so many years ago."

The Sage's voice took a saddened, resigned tone. It was clear she was crestfallen.

"Had I known what would happen, Ahkmoset, I would never have bothered to walk into the chambers in the first place. I tire of your persecutions, your paranoia. You could have been my greatest ally. We could have shaped the future of the galaxy for millennia to come. But that will never happen now. You have slain too many of my brothers and sisters, destroyed too much, and your lack of remorse for it all is sickening. I'm tired of you. And now I will do what I must. And you shall return to the dust."

The Sage made a Force jump, corkscrewing through the air as Ahkmoset backed away, swinging his axe. Evra and the others started to rush forward, but Marek stopped them.

"She's the Yellow Sage. She doesn't need our help," Marek affirmed.

"Arrogance does not become us as Jedi," Evra countered.

"It isn't arrogance. It's confidence. Stay out of it. This is between them."

Ahkmoset swung his axe but the Sage caught the blade with Telekinesis, wrenched it out of his hand and Force pushed him into the other side of the chamber, where he impacted hard against the surface.

"Did you really think this technological terror you've constructed for yourself is any match for the power of the Force, Ahkmoset?" The Sage asked angrily. "My brothers and sisters foiled even your giant warbot, destroyed your ground forces. We could have changed so much, you and I." The Sage picked Ahkmoset up with her mind and flung him a few meters away, slamming him into the floor for good measure.

"I will never have enough tears for what you are forcing me to do to you. I suspect it shall be many years before I will be able to sleep comfortably," the Sage continued, naked pain audible in her tone, and saying more than her own words ever could. She pushed him again with the Force, this time close to the gold block with the mantra written on it.

"You claim to be protecting democracy, but your vicious crimes reveal you only to be a dictator, willing to kill whoever opposes you. You have betrayed the galaxy with your selfishness." The Sage again slammed the helpless Ahkmoset into the ground with the Force. His faceplate cracked.

"If you believe in any gods, now is the time to pray. I do not think they will accept the prayers of one so wicked, however, but that's my opinion," the Sage continued, standing over the wounded Ahkmoset.

"I can't believe I'm going to ask this again, but will you surrender now? I will not ask again."

Ahkmoset, voice clearly full of rage and pride, even in his alien tongue, spoke his defiance.

"Never...never to the likes of you! We'll fight you in the courts! We'll fight you on the beaches! We'll fight you in the trenches! WE WILL NEVER SURRENDER! FOR DEMOCRACY!" Ahkmoset yelled, firing hidden repulsor boosters in his battle suit's legs and flying away from the surprised Jedi Grandmaster. As he flew away, a hidden cannon in the suit's chest plate fired a grenade pointed at her.

It burst through her chest, creating a hole the size of a fist and impacting into the gold block behind her.

But the Yellow Sage did not drop dead. She didn't even stagger.

"Ahkmoset, you should know by now that such things cannot kill me."

"Really? I disagree," Ahkmoset replied, pointing as he landed.

The Sage turned too late.

The grenade had been designed with a high grade, phosphorous-type explosive, this particular brand of which was capable of flash melting anything from durasteel to exposed flesh, and covering a very wide radius.

It did exactly what it was designed to do against the gold block. It flash-melted the block instantly, sending a molten, white hot mass onto the screaming Jedi.

"Knew I should have set the timer for sooner. That was too close," Ahkmoset breathed. "Do you see now, people of the galaxy? The Jedi are not all powerful! They CAN be resisted! You MUST resist them! For the REPUB-"

"SHUT THE FRAK UP!" screamed a barely human voice as a hand punched through the back of his helmet and exited through his face plate, soaked in green blood and brains.

A grief-ridden Marek slid his lacerated and bloody fist out of Ahkmoset's head and let the body collapse.

"I should have helped," he wept. Marek approached the now cooled (not to mention terribly morbid) statue the gold had formed around the Yellow Sage's body, caught in a final gesture of waving her arms to protect herself. Evra couldn't make out anything other than a humanoid shape, but that wasn't too important. What was important was that he had ignored his instincts, and despite the fact that this was a simulation and therefore no one had really died, he could not help but feel ashamed at his own inaction for some reason.

Marek dropped to the statue and wept, this time beyond consolation.

"Forgive me," he whispered through his tears. "Forgive me."

A bright white light descended over Evra's eyes.

Evra blinked, finding himself back on the bridge with the others where all this started. Everyone was back in their normal attire.

"Everybody okay?" he asked wearily.

"Not scratch, old boy," the Executioner answered cheerfully. "All I wish was that I could type in my high score. I wonder if that simulation has some sort of 'Super Duper Hard' difficulty."

"As if it wasn't nearly impossible getting through the first time," Carra groaned. "What were we doing again?"

"We, uh, we were going to check out what was on the other side of the bridge," Evra answered.

"Let's just get this finished. I looked cool, but that thing was depressing as frak," C'bal spoke glumly.

The team marched forward, reaching the end of the bridge quickly, wary of any other strange thing approaching them. They reached a large, stone cube, laden with ancient and faded paintings of white lilies and orchids. There was a circular, brass colored door in front.

"So why do you think they made us go through with that?" Tul-Pa asked.

"Could have been a test, could have been a visual memorial. Could have been any number of reasons," Evra replied grimly, hitting an ancient panel and watching the door slide into some recess of the floor.

He grimaced as he beheld a sight he had just witnessed being made a few minutes ago.

The Yellow Sage's was still frozen in the act of trying to protect herself. Too much gold obscured the details of her body. If one did not know better, it was just a poorly made and strangely morbid construct.

The team gathered around it, examining it.

"Let's piss on it," the Executioner almost begged.

"Have you no respect for the dead?" Evra asked.

"Would you let me film you and Tul-Pa making out?" the Mandalorian countered.

"Ew, gross!" Carra exclaimed.

"No I wouldn't, Ex," Evra answered.

"Then no, I have no respect for the dead," the Executioner answered jovially. "C'mon, can't we just desecrate the grave a little? Just a teensy bit? You won't even notice, I swear!"

"No," Evra said flatly.

"You never let me have any bathroom related fun," the Mandalorian replied crossly. "Bunch of pansy fairies, the lot of you." The Executioner exited the chamber.

"Guys?" C'bal said nervously, standing to the back of the statue. "You better look at this."

The rest of the team gathered round.

There was a hole. A hole the size of a fist. Evra peered inside.

No corpse, or even a hint of remains. Sure, that was too be expected after untold millennia, but even if that was the case...

...then what had made the hole?

More pointedly, what had made a hole that looked like it had been made from the _inside_?

"Frak this place. I'm too creeped out," C'bal said, "You couldn't pay me enough to try and figure out what did that. I'll be waiting outside the temple. Seriously, frak this place. With that, he exited the chamber in a hurry.

"I'll admit, that is certainly weird," Evra noted. "Carra, Tul-Pa, you two don't think that..."

"I don't know what to think, save that we should leave this strange place and never return," Tul-Pa snapped. "I'm gonna have to take Freak show's side on this one."

With that, Tul-Pa strode quickly out of the chamber.

Carra and Evra were left to contemplate with unease whatever it was that had escaped.

Carra broke the silence. "So, how did it feel, temporarily being a Jedi?"

"I...never really considered things from their point of view before," he admitted quietly.

A slight hissing noise caught their attention from the front of the large pedestal on which the statue rested. Evra quickly went over to the front.

A small container jutted out from the pedestal. In it contained a copy of the Yellow Sage's mask. It just stood, there, gleaming.

Evra grasped it, feeling the pleasant weight.

"We're done here, Carra, let's get outta here."

One final surprise lay for Evra as he ascended from the hole to the Yellow Sage's tomb.

The statues had moved. The mass of them now stared down at Evra, each with a mournful expression.

Fear gripped Evra, but when the Force whispered no danger, he continued up and past them, doing his very best not to brush against them, with Carra following close by.

As Evra and Carra exited the chamber the circular doors shut of their own accord.

And, much to Evra and Carra's already immense disquiet, he heard a shuffling of some kind on the other side.

Evra did not dare try to open the doors again, for he feared that if he opened the doors and suddenly found that all the statues on the other side had moved again, he might break into a sprint, damn the checkered floor-trap ahead.

He instead was lead away by the hand of a clearly fearful Carra.

"C'mon, Riordo. We've already ventured further into this place than any sane mortal should dare," Carra told him gently.

"Y-yeah. You're right," he replied trying not to shake.

After passing through the checkered floor-trap, he quickly sprinted to his bike, where the rest of his team waited on theirs.

"You saw the blasted things, didn't you?" C'bal asked, clearly frightened. "Let's get out of here!"

"No arguements there," Evra answered gunning the engines foward.

The rest of his team followed, to safety, and more importantly, peace of mind.


	16. The trouble with senators

B'lerofon, eight days after Bodhi mission.

"Okay, try again," Carra encouraged.

Evra closed his eyes and tried lifting the one-thousand kilo stone pillar that had been brought in at his request with telekinesis. He was wearing his usual black jumpsuit. Carra wore her usual loose white and grey robes.

They were in the training chamber, and had been for the past three hours. The oval area was brightly lit, with the usual weapon rack nearby, and painted the color of steel.

He struggled; it was so heavy in his mind! Every nerve started to burn as he struggled to lift the pillar even a centimeter.

Unfortunately, a centimeter was about all he could do.

Just as his chest started to hurt, he released the pillar. It made a large thud and Carra stabilized it.

"Hmmm," she mumbled as Riordo rose up, rubbing his temples.

"Normally, I'd say that it's all in your head, but...I'm starting to think that really may be the upper limits of your strength. Your telepathy is just barely average and so is your ability to detect danger. Your offensive Force powers are nothing to brag about either. How did you survive the Sith Academy?"

"Using my head. Figuring out who to screw over and who to ally myself with and then screw over. Took a lot out of me. Dustil was watching my back the rest of the time, albeit covertly."

"No offense, but I'm amazed they passed you at all."

"So were they," Evra said. "But even they had to admit I had delivered what they asked for where others much more powerful had failed."

"It's just strange. Bluefin had to know your Force powers were slightly below average. I mean, you can't even sustain a bolt of lightning for more than a few seconds. Truth be told...you should be dead. You should be dead ten times over."

"Lucky me," Evra grunted.

"Yeah, really lucky...too lucky," Carra trailed off. "And no offense, but your light saber technique is...amateurish. I can't even tell what style it is."

"It is 'supposed' to be Soresu, with cross training in Ataru and Niman."

Carra folded her arms. "Did you even try to memorize what you were taught? Did any of it stick?"

"It isn't as though I didn't try, but...every time I was up against somebody, I kept adopting this...this 'go for broke' attitude...Carra?"

Carra was on her knees, clutching her head.

"Does she have to use the frakking cattle prod on him...? TELL ME WHAT I WANT TO KNOW!" she shouted, sweating.

"Carra!" Evra shouted, going over to her and shaking her. "Snap out of it! You aren't Revan!"

Carra looked at him and the confusion faded in her eyes.

"E-Evra?" she stammered.

"I'm here," he replied.

"S-Sorry. The...the confusion is getting worse. Sometimes I can't even remember my name. My child's name..."

"What is his name? Focus on that!"

"It...his name is Krav. He just turned six. I-I'm so TIRED of this..."

"I know but you have to stay coherent! For your family!"

"What if I never see them again? I've already failed once at killing Revan...even when I knew everything. What if I can't defeat her in time?"

"That's why there is no 'I' in team. If we're going to kill her, our best chance is together. But you need to stay strong. It'll be over soon. The madness will be over. The Sith, the Jedi, this obscene war...it'll all be over."

"No it won't, Evra," Carra replied flatly. "This kind of war...it will never be over. There have been ceasefires, times when everybody had to go home and lick their wounds...only to come back for the next round of horrors. People have found an excuse to start it before, and they've always found an excuse to continue it."

Carra rose up. "And we Sensitives are forced back into it every time. Because someone can't let the argument drop. Someone always has to prove, once and for all, which side is the strongest. Well let me tell you, Evra," she continued bitterly, turning towards him. "The flaw in both sides thinking is this...just because their side is strongest...does not validate their cause. Why do you think someone like me tried to stay out of it?"

"Life was much more interesting than the feel of a light saber," he replied.

"Exactly," she said, wiping tears from her eyes. "I wanted to grow _old. _I wanted to get _fat. Be happy. _But they never let our kind stop! They _conscript us. Enslave us. _Turn us into every foul sort of monster one can imagine, light and dark. Even when I was on the other side of the galaxy, I was pulled back in!"

"I feel you there. Even when we mean well, we just end up making things worse," Evra said. "I swear, when this war is over, you'll never even catch me NEAR a light saber again."

His proclamation was interrupted by a message from the PA system.

"Attention, all Bravo team members are to report to briefing."

"But that war isn't over today," he said ruefully, grabbing his light saber.

Evra and Carra walked in on the Executioner and C'bal playing some sort of game with a crumpled piece of paper. C'bal had his thumbs and forefingers in an l-shape, forming some sort of goal post. The Mandalorian was busily flicking the paper ball through the finger-posts. Or trying to.

"You're cheating. Gotta be. With a normal person, I'd have made ten goals by now."

"You just suck," C'bal said matter of factly. "Have you even played this game before?"

"No, but that doesn't mean you ain't a cheatin' pissant."

"Guys?" Evra spoke, announcing himself.

C'bal and the Executioner groaned and stopped playing. "I'll beat you next time, Zombie. Just you wait," the black armored Mandalorian vowed. "No one defeats the Mandalorians at games involving paper and fingers."

"Keep dreaming," C'bal chuckled.

"Where's Tul-Pa?" Evra asked, sitting down at the circular briefing table.

"She's being outfitted for a 'special' assignment, Riordo," Colonel Bluefin said, entering the room. He tossed a manilla folder onto the table, opening it to reveal the photo of an elderly man, with a long beard that extended slightly past the top of his chest. His chestnut colored hair was tied in a top knot and he wore a simple brown robe. His eyes were grey and he had crows feet at the corner of them. His skin was light brown.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Senator Kaavass of Chandrila."

"Let me, guess, bodyguard duty?" Evra asked.

His gaze darkened at the answer.

"Assassination," Bluefin corrected. "Kaavaas has been a long time supporter of our organization-or so we thought. We kept him at arm's length, so he doesn't really know what we do, but he had a direct hand in the budget. Months before your mission to Serreno we felt we could finally start trusting him with overseeing our affairs more deeply. You know, seeing our material lists, where we got them from, where they were going, Intelligence reports, so on and so forth. Well apparently, this was a huge mistake. Kaavaas was a plant. Had been from the beginning. He had managed to deduce from viewing our intelligence on the late General Derred that we were planning an op. That's how Revan knew we were coming. C'bal's skills will be particularly useful in this operation."

"Are you sure he's a traitor?" Evra asked.

"Positive. Evidence is rock solid. Evra, he's a major liability, he can't be allowed to live, but we need his knowledge."

"But won't killing a senator raise some eyebrows?" C'bal asked.

"We can't take him in. THAT will raise eyebrows. If he were to however, be killed by a Sith assassin...nobody would be surprised. He's a very respected senator and has for years acted as the staunchest of Republic allies...in public, that is. If it comes out that he was a spy, the government takes a heavy blow in its claims that its secure from infiltration. We need to get C'bal to munch on him so we can figure out at our leisure what else he knows. In fact, we have such a plan," Colonel Bluefin continued, smiling. "Senator Kaavaas is coming to Coruscant for a few days to see to his son's bachelor party. That's where Tul-Pa comes in. She's going to be a...distraction."

"She's gonna be a stripper, isn't she?" C'bal asked excitedly. "Please tell me she's a stripper."

"I second that and bet ten creds you'll tell us she's a stripper," the Executioner added mischievously.

"No, she isn't going to be a stripper. She's going to be a singer...albeit with revealing clothing," Bluefin added. "Evra, you'll be going in as the head of security for the 'singer' along with the Executioner. Carra will be going in as one of the party's planners. The Executioner will be setting explosives up all around the perimeter. C'bal will go in as a waiter. Use whatever form feels comfortable for you-"

"Wait a minute," Evra stopped Bluefin, holding up a hand. "What are the explosives for?"

"We can't have any witnesses. No can see your faces. Ever. You remember the rules," Bluefin reminded him.

"Colonel, I know what we discussed...I have no qualms about killing a Jedi, soldier, or any other sort of military target. But there will be civilians here..."

"Civilians die in war, Riordo," Bluefin replied sternly. "It's something we all have to get used to. It's for the greater good. As per the course, I've left details of the mission in data pads in your quarters. That's all, dismissed."

Evra didn't look at Bluefin as he walked out of the room.

Evra sat on his cot and stared once more at the mask of the Yellow Sage which he had kept as a souvenir from Bodhi.

He stared at its gold facet, the wings painted on it-and felt no conflict over it, over what it represented.

That was more than he could say about his new mission.

He would be the first to admit he had killed civilians before-under orders from Uthar or Yuthura for very petty things.

Then as now, their only crime was that it had been part of his mission.

Then, as now, it had left him with a bad taste in his mouth, sourness in his heart.

Part of him wanted to get up, march into Bluefin's quarters and tell him to frak himself. But he knew there was no future down that road.

Or was there?

Not for the first time since Tul-Pa's little speech about Bluefin's supposed inherently untrustworthy nature, he had begun to wonder if working for Bluefin was any better than working for the enemy. From what this mission told him, the only difference so far was extra military protocol.

Evra looked back at the mask of the long dead Grandmaster. No conflict.

Evra looked at his data pad's mission details. Conflict.

He could not do this forever. What if one day Bluefin gave him an order he couldn't follow?

What then?

"How do I look, Family Man?"

He hadn't even heard her come in.

Evra tried to keep his mouth from dropping as Tul-Pa slinked over to him in a flimsy silver dress whose length barely reached past the top of her long legs. It looked as though it could fall off her at any second, yet teasingly kept from doing so.

"See something you like?" she asked, sitting down on his lap, stroking his bearded face with her hand.

"Your hair is coming in nicely," she added. "It's about three hours before we reach Coruscant, what's say we test this dress and see whether or not it'll 'accidentally' fall off?"

"That's a dress? I thought it was gift wrapping," he joked, just playing along for once. "I'll admit it, Tul-Pa...you are making it really hard to keep my wedding vows..."

"If your wife couldn't hold your attention, she doesn't deserve you," Tul-Pa whispered into his ear. "You really want to hear me say it, don't you?"

"Hear you say what?" he asked, unconsciously pulling her closer.

"Fine! I LIKE you. I REALLY like you. You're not scum, like most Dark Jedi. You never ask anybody to do anything you aren't willing to do yourself, and despite the fact that everybody on the team is more powerful than you are, and could probably kill you easily, you pull just as much weight as we do, maybe more so. And you always put us before you. And you are LOYAL. Like a Kath Hound. Each time you say no to me because of your wife just makes me want you more. I'm just wondering when you're going to stop playing hard to get."

Evra summoned enough will to get up.

"I have...commitments, Tul-Pa. And even if I was available...you honestly think you and me could work out? I HATE my job. There, I said it! It gets worse and worse with each mission. You're the type who craves this lifestyle. Me? I wanna settle down. Grow old. Get fat. Die in my sleep. You know how few of our kind die peacefully of old age? Too few."

"That is so much kek you just told me," Tul-Pa replied with a throaty chuckle. "I'm a pretty good judge of character. You BELONG out here. You are never more alive than when you are barking at orders or pulling some stunt even that crazy Bucket Head admits he wouldn't dare attempt. So you'll die eventually in this business. Big deal! Everyone dies! Our kind just tend to die much sooner because we're naturally violent."

"But what will I have to show for it, other than a trail of bodies?"

Tul-Pa sighed. "I take it something is bothering you?"

"Yeah, this!" Evra said picking up his data pad. "Do you know what we have to do in a couple of hours?"

"Not like you never killed civvies. Why's this different?"

"We're supposed to kill the bastards who have it coming, not some poor frak looking for a good time. This...this isn't what I signed up for."

"That's Black ops for you: It's never what you signed up for. No accountability. This is why you and me should start thinking about being mercenaries. We'll be able to pick our jobs then. Get paid more than we'll ever get paid here."

"Mercenary work is even worse! It'd probably be like this mission, except all the time!"

"What're you thinking about doing, going all 'Jedi' and stuff? I've seen what it does to them, where that path leads. It is nowhere pleasant."

Evra stared at her. "Don't even joke about me turning into a Jedi."

"You're certainly moralizing enough. Like you're pious or some kek like that. You aren't. You're just like the rest of us. You think Carra's worried about it? Oh, I'm sure she's _superficially _bothered, or will claim to be, if you ask her, but she'd say anything, DO anything to escape Revan's hold over her life. And I will be the first to admit that it is a terrible burden she carries. I'll even tell you I pity her to some degree, but I'll never forget how desperate she is. You think she wouldn't walk in here and pull your heart out of your chest and eat it if she believed Revan would instantly drop dead in doing so?"

At this, Evra could say nothing. He had seen that dark glimmer of determination in her eyes. The animalistic fear that probably gripped her every private moment.

"I thought so. Way I see it, we all gotta go sometime. Better these gents go in a blaze of glory watching me sing and tease them then to wait for old age and hard knock to deal disappointment again and again. I've been down that road. Nothing for me there," she added getting up and stretching.

"Of course, if you don't want this relatively meager amount of blood on your hands, feel free to try and wriggle out of it. The fate of these people we are going to visit is decided one way or another: They are all going to die eventually, and not me, you, or even the Force can stop that. You just wait, you'll see what I mean," she finished, reaching to undo a strap on the back of her dress.

Evra stared as it came off.

"Now, are you going to just stare, or are you going to let me help you forget your troubles?"

Coruscant, nightfall, Senatorial apartments.

The bluish white spire that was the Senatorial apartments gleamed even in the nighttime, an extremely tall spike of beauty reaching up to the sky and dotted with red and white lights.

"Ex," Evra said, straightening his black tie and adjusting the blue contact lens that disguised his remaining yellow eye as Carra piloted the Atmospheric shuttle to the docking bay. Tul-Pa sat next to him, legs crossed and wearing that same silver dress from earlier, and sporting a shade of bright blue lipstick.

"What is it, Evra?" the Executioner asked.

"I need a favor," Evra continued, throwing on a white silk dinner jacket, his light saber hiding in an inside pocket. His black dress pants and shoes felt too tight. They should have given him a bigger size.

"For a crazy bastard like you? Sure."

"When you set the explosives...I need to you to frak it up. Sabotage it. Then call the authorities."

The whole team stopped and stared at him.

"Now this is an interesting proposal," the Mandalorian chuckled. "You're asking an Executioner not to execute. What gives?"

"I thought about it. I'm not gonna kill these civvies, just the guy Bluefin really wants."

"Bluefin ain't gonna like that," the Executioner replied.

"Since when do you care what Bluefin thinks?"

"I don't care what he thinks. Sure, we are already keeping the secret that Carra's just some clone of Revan-but that's an easy secret to keep. Plus, Carra is tolerable as long as she don't mouth any touchy-feely stuff like 'Don't kill small animals with a stick', or "Ex, you know it's wrong to dream about dunking a Grandmother in hydrochloric acid', or any number of other things she likes to lecture me about, like wanting to burn down hospitals. But what you're suggesting is way different. Like, Bluefin-could-have-us-shot different," the Executioner replied calmly.

"He'd probably have us shot for keeping Carra's secret. What's the difference?"

"The difference is in the preperation we took. I inspected those charges I'm gonna set four times, and I assured Bluefin they were good. How do you think it's gonna look if they fail? I'll tell you how it's gonna look. He's gonna put two and two together and have us all thrown in the stockade. Now, to be fair, I like me a good old imprisonment in your average stockade. Gets the blood pumping. But I don't wanna go to the stockade knowing I ain't gonna be leaving it again. And your suggestion of calling the authorities is suicide. This place is close to the Jedi temple, and Jedi are often quick to arrive to aid a senator in case they're in trouble. How do you propose we get around these myriad of difficulties, old chum?"

Evra went silent. Normally, he had a rapid fire response to any number of things, but this time...

How could he avert a slaughter while at the same time deflecting suspicion?

"Give me...a minute on that one," Evra replied.

"Tell you what, Evra," the Executioner proposed, "We have a very tight two hour window. You come up with a plan, I'll go along with it, no questions asked...IF I think it has a shot at succeeding. If it's too dangerous for even me to go along with...well then you're just kek outta luck, now aren't you?"

"Deal," Evra replied.

"I'd start planning if I were you," the Executioner replied as Carra landed on the docking platform.

"There you are! We've been waiting for you over an hour!" the Rodian butler wearing a dark green set of slacks and shirt said as Evra, Tul-Pa, and Carra exited the shuttle. Carra was wearing a long black dress and her hair was tied in a bun. The landing pad jutted out of the building and the speeders of Coruscant flew by in high speed at their set altitude routes past the marvelous sky scrapers. "The Senator's son was growing impatient! The wine hasn't arrived yet, the music instruments haven't been properly synched, the chef doesn't know what he's doing, and we have to get the singer prepared to jump out of the cake-"

"What cake?" Tul-Pa asked.

"You didn't get the memo? Just what ARE we paying you for anyway? I don't understand why the Senate Intelligence Beureu sees fit to interfere at a simple bachelor party. You people have turned it into a total clusterfrak!" the Butler complained.

"You know there are security risks with the war and all," Evra replied sternly. "The Senator is a popular man. The Sith don't like that."

"We HAVE senate guards! They're staffed here at all hours of the day!"

"Sometimes Senate guards aren't enough," Carra replied.

"And just WHO is this singer? I've never heard of you," the Butler asked, regarding Tul-Pa.

"She was cleared by security. She's very well known on the rim. Has a bunch of holo-albums out," Evra answered.

"Well she's an unknown around here! What's one of her songs?" the Butler asked, folding his arms.

"Uh...Knights Of The Old Republic. It's a patriotic song, really," Evra answered.

"We are up to our ears in patriotism around here. Can she at least do a good cover of the song 'The Saga Begins'?"

"I love that song!" Carra said excitedly. "Of course she can do it!"

"Of course I can," Tul-Pa agreed, hiding her uncertainty.

"Well good, then at least the night won't be 'total' disaster. Alright, you people meet me in the chefs kitchen after you're done making whatever preparations you need to. And miss, if you pull this off, I'll double your fee. Now how should I introduce you, miss?"

"Um...Nayama. Yes, Nayama. That's my stage name. Nayama," Tul-Pa answered.

"Well, Nayama, do a good job and try not to make a fool of yourself. The son of Senator Kaavaas has very high expectations," the butler finished, departing for the entrance into the senatorial suite.

"Thanks for volunteering me, Blondie," Tul-Pa snapped.

"It's an easy song! I'll write it down for you!" Carra said helpfully.

"Are you sure you can even do this?" Evra asked.

"I used to sing in cantinas before I decided to stop being a sucker and pick up a rifle," Tul-Pa replied. "Don't worry about me."

Evra nodded and the trio headed off.

The apartment, as it turned out, wasn't really an apartment, more like a lavish, mini-mansion with three separate floors laid out in a circular pattern, The floor was lined with soft red carpet, and a number of pretty, but otherwise uninspired statues placed next to large windows offering a view of the nighttime city-scape.

Furniture had been cleared from the center of the living area, where a relatively large stage had been set up with a stately looking black rodian piano.

A group of men, human twilek, and bothan milled about in expensive clothing, holding glassed of some sort of beverage or another, waiting for the show to start.

"Excuse me, can I get you anything?" as a young red twilek male in a white shirt with black slacks and dress shoes, holding up glasses of wine to the trio.

"No thanks," Evra replied, holding up his hand.

"Psst, Boss, how do I look?" the Twilek as in a familiar oily tone.

"Hey C'bal," Carra said quietly.

"Lookin' good, kid," Evra replied. "When I find out where the senator is, I'll come get you. Until, then, move around, and don't talk to anybody unless you absolutely have to."

"Will do, Boss," C'bal replied quietly, moving off.

"Tul-Pa, you ready to do this?" Evra asked.

"As soon as I can remember the song," Tul-Pa replied.

"Forget writing it down. We're on a schedule," Carra added, discreetly holding two fingers up to Tul-Pa's right temple.

Tul-Pa blinked as unfamiliar knowledge pooled into her mind. "You really have your uses, Blondie," she acknowledged.

Carra nodded. She then spotted the Rodian butler and waved him down.

"Nayama is ready to begin her performance, would you please escort her to the kitchen?" Carra asked.

The Butler nodded and motioned for Tul-Pa to follow him.

As Evra watched her walk off he felt something akin to giddy excitement at the thought of watching her on stage.

"You really like her, don't you?" Carra asked.

"Sorta," was Evra's reply.

A door chime rang out and a few servants immediately rushed to the front entrance.

Evra's breath caught in his throat.

In stepped a Jedi wearing a tight fitting set of dark brown robes with white leather vambraces. Her hair was cut short, about an inch and a half from the scalp, also dark brown. She wore a black leather blindfold over her eyes. Following her in were about a dozen blue-robed Senate guards, each holding force pikes.

"My apologies for this intrusion," she spoke in a quiet formal tone. "But I am Visas Marr, Jedi Investigator. I'm afraid you may be all in terrible danger."


	17. Politics

Coruscant, Senatorial Apartments.

Evra knew all of this was too convenient. A Jedi Investigator shows up just as he and his team arrive to carry out the assignment?

The Senator was obviously better prepared that anyone realized.

Evra moved through the crowd of party-goers, away from the Jedi Investigator and her Senate guards. He spotted Carra and moved to her.

"Find Adek. Quietly prepare to evac, if it gets bad," he whispered.

Carra nodded and melted further into the crowd of guests.

"I received a tip that someone would be making an attempt on the Senator's life tonight. Can anyone tell me anything they saw that seemed suspicious or out of place?" Visas asked.

Evra had just tried to make his way to the kitchen when the Rodian Butler spoke out.

"Other than Republic intelligence screening who we let into the party, even the singer?" he asked.

"We didn't get any reports from higher up. Where's the singer's manager?" one of the Senate Guards asked.

"Here I am," Evra said, grabbing a glass of wine and swallowing it whole to calm his nerves for the amount of crap he'd have to spew out of his mouth. "What seems to be the problem? We cleared it with your bosses. Didn't you get the letter from command clearing me and the talent?"

"We haven't received any such letter," the head Senate Guard replied, his blue robes darker in the low lighting.

Evra angrily put his hands on his hips. "Well ain't that just damn stupid. You guys always drop the ball, you know that?! I filed the paperwork three days ago with your bosses and they cleared it! If they haven't sent you a copy, that's your problem, not mine!"

"This is no time for a blame game," Visas Marr said, holding a placating hand up. "Lives are at stake. We'll sort out who's who quickly. Until then for everyone's safety, I'm placing this party under lockdown. The Senate Guards and the Jedi Order are conducting a full sweep of the area until we've determined whether it is safe or not, I ask you all to remain calm until then."

As the crowd started to murmur and move around idly, Evra discreetly tapped the hidden com-linl switch on his collar.

"Ex, you listening?"

"Old Chum it seems a whole nest of Jedi are going to be on my hiding spot soon. Any ideas? What's going on?"

"It seems the Senator knew we were coming."

"We are pulling out?"

"No. I'm not letting 'another' mission end in failure. Ex I got a plan, and remember our deal?" About sparing the civvies? I got a plan now and an alibi."

"I'm all ears, old chum."

"Ex," Evra began, slinking up the stairs where no one was. "For this to work, you're gonna need to replace whatever charges you set at key points that will serve as a diversion, just make sure to place them in a way that will send everybody running. You'll need to evade capture as long as possible to do this. Can you?"

"Evra, what sort of Mandalorian would I be if I didn't know how to evade security?"

Evra smiled. "I'll take it as a yes. Good luck."

"Don't get all sappy on me. But, uh, you...you be careful too, alright?"

Evra's eyes went wide. "Was that concern? From you?"

"It is what it is, mate," the Executioner replied, before cutting the transmission.

Evra discreetly made his way back downstairs into the lavish bottom floor of the apartment, the Senate Guards were questioning people, but it wouldn't be long before they started doing a headcount and realize there were one too many waiters. Evra ducked into the kitchen.

The sight of Tul-Pa half out of the cake was a sight Evra was quite sure he would never forget. She spotted him and suggestively dipped her finger into the middle layer of the cake, digging up some frosting.

Evra felt his face go numb.

"Out," he said simply, trying to refocus on the mission.

Tul-Pa licked the frosting off her finger and elegantly leaped out of the cake, the flimsy silver dress she was 'disguised' in barely hanging on.

"Problem, Family Man?" she asked.

"We got Jedi showing up. And a frakload of Senate guards, You need to search the rooms for the Senator. You find him, come get me. When you do-"

Evra stopped talking as one of the human chefs burst through a turbolift door carrying a roast of some kind.

Before Evra had realized what was happening, Tul-Pa had pulled him close and begun passionately kissing him. Returning the case half out of understanding of the ploy, half out of overwhelming desire, the kissing went on for a good thirty seconds before they heard someone clearing their throat.

"Aren't you supposed to be in the cake?" the Chef asked angrily, wrinkling his nose at the two of them. "We have a schedule to meet, Miss. Don't screw it up."

"Of course," she replied, bowing her head, pulling away from Evra, who suddenly felt lightheaded.

The Chef grumbled some more before putting the roast down and heading out through the entrance Evra had come in through.

"After you've found the Senator," Evra continued, not missing a beat even with Tul-Pa's smile threatening to make Evra crack one also. "Come get me. I'll find C'bal and Carra and we'll set up an escape route through wherever the Senator is hiding. You cannot afford to be seen until then. Go."

Tul-Pa winked at him, turning into a murky pool of darkness that slithered into a nearby vent. The flimsy dress, mysteriously untouched, fell to the floor.

Evra picked it up and quickly stuffed it into a drawer, hiding it. Then he quietly slipped out into the main floor again and headed back into the crowd.

"Hey, Boss," said C'bal quietly, still disguised as a Twi-lek waiter.

"Where's Carra?" Evra whispered as the guards took up positions at the exits.

"Keeping steady until you order her otherwise."

"Evra, managed to replace the charges. Got a problem though," the Executioner's voice blared quietly in the micro-comlink implanted in Evra's ear. "The Jedi have discovered our insertion ship. I can remote pilot it, but the signal required will immediately give away my position."

"Are you in danger of being detected?" Evra quietly whispered as Visas moved about checking all of the guests.

"No."

"Then stay put!" was all he managed to get out as Visas finally turned to approach him.

"I'm sorry?" she asked in confusion.

"I said it looks like I'll be staying put for the time being," Evra smoothly recovered. "How can I help you?"

"The Senate guards who checked back with command said that they never received any of the paperwork you filed, Command doesn't even seem to recall requesting special attention. The Senator wasn't deemed a high priority target. Would you care to explain this?"

"That's impossible. I'm with the intelligence branch. They said he needed daily protection."

"What is your identification number in the intelligence branch? Perhaps I can call up someone who knows you."

"It's M1911-A1," Evra replied, reciting the fake ID number Bluefin had told him to memorize that would at least deflect suspicion temporarily should anyone check the database.

"Do not move," Visas instructed. "I shall return with verification, or you will be under arrest."

Evra nodded. As soon as she went back over to the guards who had begun to set up computer equipment.

"Ex!" Evra hissed, tapping the button to his comlink. "Blow the explosive charge closest to us."

"You got it. And don't worry, I made sure not to plant them anywhere populated. Would've defeated the whole purpose of that 'mercy' you're feeling," the Mandalorian replied.

A loud bang made everyone scream as every light went out. He saw the gold light saber of Visas activate in a flash.

"Watch the rest. I will go and investigate," she said quietly.

"Family Man," Tul-Pa hissed into his ear, appearing out of nowhere. "I've found the Senator. We don't have much time. He's on the third floor. The doors unlocked."

"What? That's too easy!" Evra protested, getting the feeling something was terribly amiss.

Now that he thought about it, The Senator should have come practically running into the protection the guards and Jedi afforded. And yet, he had chosen to stay where he was, while he conveniently stayed off the minds of just about everyone, when by all means the first thing the Senate Guards and Jedi should have done was immediately demand to see Kaavaas.

This smelled of something Force-related.

"Keep your guard up. I got the strange feeling our Senator is an enemy Force-User," he whispered. He tapped a hidden com-link patrol.

"Ex, another charge."

A massive rumble sounded overhead and people were suddenly screaming, running everywhere in the blackness as the Guards shouted for order.

Evra and the others were joined by Carra, who had left a cloud of confusion in each of the Guards minds as to what was going on. They slowly, quietly made their way up the floors.

The Senator's office was surprisingly bare, merely a single seat and work desk with a terminal.

Kaavaas stared out of the window, hands folded.

"So, you've finally come," he spoke in a weary, gravel-like tone, stroking his beard. "I suppose it is overdue."

"If you know who we are, than you know why we're here," Evra growled.

The Senator stared, before smoothing his simple brown robe and sitting down.

"To kill me, I bet."

"What I don't understand," Evra began, stepping forward as the others remained at the entrance, "is why you didn't flee to the protection of the guards. You had us outfoxed. No way could we have touched you at that point without causing a bloodbath."

"My life has run its course. I know that I am destined to die at your hand, Riordo Evra, be it sooner or later. However, I did not wish you to have it easily."

Evra stopped cold in his tracks, staring at the ponytailed Senator.

"How do you know my name?" he asked.

"I know many things. See many places. The past...the future. And you. You have been given a grand place in events, boy, and you have not yet fully played your part."

"You wanted to see me?" Evra asked, unsure where this was going.

"First know that yes, I am indeed a spy for Darth Revan, however, her vision of the future and mine have begun to sharply diverge. In her future she sees only success, an endless fleet to hold up both her own ego and protect 'her' galaxy. I myself see only destruction and death. Of the many futures I see, you are involved in most of them. You do not always succeed."

"What am I trying to not fail at?" Evra asked suspiciously, taking a step closer.

"Evra, he's frakking with you," C'bal scoffed.

"Preventing the systematic enslavement of every man, woman and child who bears the Force in their blood. A future where only the government has the right to use the Force," the Senator answered calmly. "I have not decided to aid you casually. For a time I was convinced Darth Revan could win despite it all. But I see the tides shifting, see the traps as they close around their targets...many do not escape."

"You tell Revan any of this?" Tul-Pa asked.

"She would not have listened even if I had. She sees only victory, and is utterly assured of her chances," the Senator replied.

"Why are you telling me, then?" Evra asked.

"Because you are uniquely suited to the task...more so than your current profession would allow."

"If you are trying to turn me, it ain't gonna work," Evra growled.

Kaavaas held up his hand. "Not my intention. I simply desire to let you know that when things change...you're gonna have to decide what you want to fight for."

"I fight for democracy, freedom, civil rights. All that the Sith would deny us," Evra growled, getting closer.

The Senator looked at him, incredulous. "And do you actually think the side you fight for now represents any of those? If so, perhaps you are not as uniquely suited as I expected. Fine, disbelieve me. But I have one final warning for you: Having the right weapon will make the difference in the end."

"Huh?" Evra asked dumbly, pulling his light saber out of his dinner jacket.

"I can say no more. Do what you must."

Evra swung his weapon...

"Evra, wait, no!" C'bal shouted.

...and cleanly decapitated the Senator. His head tumbled neatly from his shoulders.

C'bal quickly went over and picked up the head,

The others quickly turned away as they heard the sound of C'bal munching.

"Kek," C'bal said after a moment. "Nothing. Should've figured. This always happens when a seer is involved."

"What do you mean?" Evra asked, getting a sinking feeling.

"I can't read the brains of really good seers, like this one. Their brain chemistry is altered."

"You think you could have mentioned that, oh, I don't know, _before I chopped off his frakking head?!" _Evra hissed.

"I told you to stop! Why didn't you?" C'bal replied angrily.

"Guys! Jedi at the door!" Tul-Pa whispered. She and Carra got away from the office entrance.

"Ex," Evra whispered. "Please tell me you are locking on to these coordinates."

"Had you locked on for a while now," the Executioner replied.

"Good. We need an extract. Now."

"I'll be up in a bit."

"We are not leaving empty-handed! He has to have something of value!" C'bal yelled, tearing open the drawers of the desk.

His eyes widened when he saw it.

A neat little package of white paper with a note attached.

"Evra," C'bal began, reading the note out loud. "Sorry if this seems like I'm just using my power to be a smartass but I figured you would want this. I know you have no reason to trust me now but I really do have the best interests of the future at heart. Good luck, and please take the light saber you find in this package on your next mission, as it will be critical to your success."

"Take it. But we are screening the hell out of whatever's in there," Evra replied.

"Freeze!" screamed Visas, who blasted open the office entrance with a Force pulse.

Evra was the only one who had dared to bring a light saber into the infiltration. Everyone else was relying on the Force for their trouble.

Evra angled his saber toward the Jedi.

"Ex, where the frak are you?" he hissed to himself.

"Disarming a couple of explosives the Jedi left on the shuttle. Would you believe it, one of those smartasses even left a cute little scented note that said, "Have an explosive time?" Isn't that just adorable?" the Mandalorian asked.

"Get up here soon!"

"How soon?"

"Soon!" Evra roared.

"OK. Sheesh..."

Visas angled her gold saber towards Evra's red.

Evra struck first, the blade hissing against the Jedi light saber.

Evra suddenly realized he was in a saber-lock.

"Your swordsmanship leaves much to be desired, Sith," Visas stated plainly.

"Why do they always talk during a duel?" C'bal wondered out loud.

"Yeah, and you notice how many of them occur over pits?" Carra asked. "Strange, let me tell you..."

Evra backed away, guarding.

Visas whipped a blade towards him in a flash, forcing him to drop low and try to leg-sweep her.

Marr back flipped out of the way, letting off a Force push that smacked Evra square in the chest.

Evra doubled over, feeling the wind go out of him as Visas rammed a boot into his face.

Evra caught it as he stumbled backward, letting Marr run straight into his elbow by pure accident on Evra's part.

Visas went out like a light, rolling uselessly to the ground.

"And the winner for surprise knockout of the year goes to..." C'bal taunted.

"C'bal," Evra grunted, wiping blood from his nose. "Shut up."

"Gotcha, Boss," C'bal said quickly.

"Why the hell didn't any of you help me?" Evra demanded.

Carra folded her arms. "We all pull our own weight on this team. And make no mistake. There will be a point where none of us will be there to help you."

"And besides, Family Man, we knew you could handle yourself," Tul-Pa teased.

"Guys, if any of you are close to the east office wall, I'd stand back," the Executioner growled over their com-links.

The team jumped back as the east wall exploded, the side hatch of the stealth shuttle opened as it floated in Coruscant's nighttime skyline.

Evra and the others quickly leaped aboard just as eight more Jedi burst into the room.

"Get us out of here!" Evra barked as he sat down.

The Jedi could only watch as the shuttle's cloaking device went active, before streaking off into the night sky.

"I want to say again how sorry I am for sending you all in blind," Bluefin added solemnly at the debriefing. "That the Senator was a spy was bad enough. That he was a Force using spy is disastrous. Who knows what he could have learned?"

"He knew enough to address me by name. Also said I have a destiny..." Evra trailed off.

Bluefin's eyes went into a hard squint. "You do realize whatever he said to you, he was only trying to compromise you, right?"

"Of course, Colonel," Evra replied, straightening up in his seat.

"Nonetheless, you removed a major thorn in our side, and for that, we thank you. We'll have to go over whatever intel he left you with a fine tooth comb, as any bit of it could be meant to lead us into a potentially serious mistake. As for the light saber, I had the boys back in the lab run every scan known to civilization on it but we could detect absolutely no irregularities. It's a bit of an artsy, elegantly made light saber. I even had Carra scan it for curses and what not. It's safe to keep, unless you're paranoid. Otherwise, it'll just collect dust in the contraband locker."

"Nah, I'll take it. I trust my team," Evra asserted. "Colonel, about what happened with the other guests..."

"I understand perfectly why you reconfigured the charges: No need to apologize for a distraction. I'll let my street boys handle whoever was there," Bluefin replied, holding up a placating hand.

Evra raised an eyebrow.

Bluefin stared back, this time taking on a tone of authority. "You do know Evra that we can't let any who saw your face live, right?"

With that, Bluefin curtly walked out. "Take some time to rest ladies and gentlemen. Something hot is coming down the pipe soon."

Evra simply stared a hole into the table while the rest of his team stared at him.

Tul-Pa, who had been sitting to his right, rubbed him gently on the shoulder.

"Told you we couldn't do anything about that," she said, sounding genuinely sorry for once.


	18. Dark Ops

Coruscant, Jedi Council Chamber.

"So let me get this straight," Master Atris asked, pulling a cigar out of her mouth. "You're saying a band of Sith snuck in under the entirety of Republic Intelligence's considerable nose, and managed to kill a high ranking Senator, escape and somehow mysteriously manage to keep killing everyone who attended the party before we could even think about dragging them here for an interview."

"Yes," Visas answered, head hung low in shame over her embarrassing failure.

"Thank you. You are dismissed," Atris said, waving Visas away from the center of the chamber floor. She uneasily departed the place through the large set of ceremonial doors that led to the administrative sections of the temple.

"Okay," Atris said innocently enough. "Is anybody buying this?"

"No way anyone could get that far without serious high-end help from the inside. We're talking ambassador levels of clearance," Kavar spoke quietly. "I guess this would mean that everything we feared is coming to pass." He shifted uncomfortably in his council seat. "The council must prepare for a war on two fronts now."

Vandar, the little green alien, sadly closed his eyes.

"We must find this team. Whatever the cost. We must know what they know."

B'lerofon, six days after Coruscant Mission.

Evra blocked yet another thunder strike of a slam from Carra who assaulted him from what seemed to be every angle as she clashed with him, her blade at a low power setting. She'd left more than her share of welts.

Carra had taken it upon herself to whip Evra's swordsmanship into at least something halfway decent, And much though he whined about the welts he was getting, he had to admit he was definitely getting something out of it.

"You're doing much better than I thought," Carra said, finally shutting off her light saber in exhaustion.

"Ah, I think its safe to say I'll never be as good as you," Evra replied, panting.

"Doesn't matter. You...have luck on your side," Carra replied. "You'll get it, some day."

"All bravo team members report to briefing room. We have a situation," the Ships PA System blared.

"No rest for the weary," Carra groaned, swooning a bit as her nausea temporarily overcame her.

"Sorry guys but this can't wait, We've got a Class One Emergency here," Bluefin said to everybody at the round wooden table of the briefing room, "I have a spy in the Miralukan government."

Evra did a double take. The Miralukans were an isolationist species, having formed a set of religious and communist societies that were supposedly incredibly rigid and completely outside Republic territory. Getting a spy in was close to impossible, especially since they could see the Force, and identify outsiders very quickly.

"A set of technology-banned in every corner of the Galaxy-is going up for sale on their home planet, Alpherides. It's taking place in the relatively isolated mountain forests of the planet." Bluefin continued, bringing up a projection of the river rich world of Alpherides.

"I do not need to tell you that the Miralukan government has stayed neutral in this conflict. But I can bet you that won't be the same if you get captured in their territory. It will be considered an act of war."

"What are we stealing?" C'bal asked.

"That's just the thing: We don't know. But we do know the name of the seller. Canderous Ordo, of the Mandalorian owned Bavarkar Cybernetics Labs. He's been wanted by the Republic for years. We'll be dropping you deep into Miralukan space. If you're captured, the Republic will disavow any knowledge of your existence. Am I clear?" Bluefin asked, straightening his black beret.

"Yes sir," Evra answered.

"Good. You know the drill, data pads in your rooms, dismissed."

Alpherides, one hour before morning.

Evra and the others filed out of the ship, clad in poncho's camouflaged to look like the forest.

And what a forest. Evra picked up a sweet scent and realized it was from the dozens of pink orchids growing on the bright green trunks of the trees. The grass was a luminescent blue, and dandelion-like flowers shivered gently in the wind, carrying some of the soft petals into the sky. Black butter flies occasionally floated by them.

It was an absolutely lovely place. Perhaps the Miralukans were isolationist because they jealously guarded treasures such as this. Evra turned his camouflage-painted face towards Tul-Pa, who gave him a coy smile and turned her back to him, knowing he was paying attention to every move.

"The flowers are lovely!" Carra exclaimed in wonder. "My husband would love these."

"I'd love to die in a place like this. Such an epic grave it would make," the Executioner agreed.

"If the Miralukans weren't a bunch of isolationists, I would totally suggest moving my many brothers and sisters to settle here," C'bal said.

"Where do your people live, C'bal?" Evra whispered.

"I can't reveal our exact locations. but we occupy that which is easily ignored," C'bal answered.

"Revealing our homes could endanger our people's lives, especially if they are earning money for the entire family. Why do you think the Jedi and Sith are so rarely able to even sight one of us? We can't afford to draw too much attention from them," Carra supplied.

"I see," Evra replied, "Move out."

As the team moved silently, the breeze gently hitting them, C'bal became curious about something.

"Say, Carra, I gotta ask," C'bal said quietly, as they headed toward their destination. "What's civvie life like?"

"Well, you get a job to support yourself. And if you're good, you get a pay raise," Carra whispered back. "And when you're properly disguised, like I am, you can go into a market and get whatever you want. And people won't be afraid. You're just another person getting food."

"But is it true that you just get to laze around some days and not do anything?" C'bal asked.

"Yeah. I took my kid to a library on those days. And we'd have ice cream."

"Sounds like Blondie was living the dream," Tul-Pa noted without cynicism.

Carra's eyes glazed over with fondness at the memories. "It was the best."

"And it's true that you never pick up a light saber for anything?" C'bal pressed.

"Totally true."

"Wow," was all C'bal could say. "Go back to the part with the ice cream."

"Always pick mint chocolate," Carra replied casually.

"So does, your husband know about you being a clone?" Tul-Pa asked.

"No."

"Let me guess, might have complicated the relationship?" Tul-Pa replied.

"I'd say so."

Tul-Pa turned toward her, disgust evident.

"Don't you see?" the effigy of Nayama Bindo hissed. "You are living a lie. If you had been honest with him from the start, Blondie, then there is no way any sane man would stay with you. This is exactly the sort of thing that makes me say we're all here because we do best in this sort of work."

"I admit I do well, but that is only out of need."

"C'mon, can't you just admit that civvie life is a total waste?"

Instead of slinking away and grumbling at Tul-Pa's snide barbs, Carra stood her ground.

"Haven't you ever wanted to do anything else in your life? So what if I'm living a lie. The lie is better than the truth: that our kind have wasted almost our entire existence fighting a silly religious war. While the civvies get to go home and sit down and eat and have kids, we are getting stabbed through the gut by people just like us. And we accept it, because we don't know any better. Because we're too stupid to get it through our heads that the Force has given us NOTHING but pain and misery. We could become as skilled and powerful as we want but we'll never be able to appreciate the simple joys of civilian life," Carra growled dangerously. "I could learn everything there is to know about the Force, and none of it could compare to the first time I stared into my baby's eyes. So tell me Tul-Pa, is there something this life has given you in the past few years that even compares to having a child or earning your first paycheck?"

Tul-Pa was silent for a moment, and everyone knew Carra had struck a nerve.

Tul-Pa finally rolled her eyes. "Whatever," she snapped, in an attempt to save face.

"Ladies," Evra growled. "Mission. Focus."

The two both nodded and continued silently on their trek.

"Who is Canderous Ordo, Boss? Some Mando bigwig?" C'bal asked.

"If you had been reading his file, Adek," Evra answered tersely, as he checked his rifle optics. "Ordo was one of the Mandalorian's 'Science Warlords'. He developed several major advances in cybernetic technology during the Mandalorian Wars. Bad stuff. One time I encountered a soldier on the battlefield that was almost completely cyberized. There were a lot of Mandalorians like that after the war was over."

"Really? I wonder..." C'bal trailed off in the Executioner's direction. "Hey Ex, what was with the Mandalorians and cyborgs?"

"I was from one of the older clans, and even we weren't in the know. Mandalore had some definite goal he was working toward, but I could never piece it together," the black armored Darksider answered. "If anyone knows what was going on in Mandalore the Ultimate's head, it was Canderous."

Evra held up a hand for everybody to stop after a few minutes.

"We're at the rendezvous point, get the listening gear," Evra ordered.

C'bal pulled out a small microphone gun and handed a smal one piece headset to Evra. Tul-Pa, Carra, and the Executioner got into position with their weapons.

Evra spotted a YT-130-a freighter of Corellian make, streak in on engines obviously set for low power and speed.

"Confirm, Bravo four. Freighter is landing as scheduled," C'bal hissed into his com-link.

"Confirming," Carra replied, tone all business.

"Registry ID is confirmed as that of the Ebon Hawk," C'bal whispered, aiming the long range scanner at it.

"Bravo two, you have an a line of sight on landing zone?" Evra asked into his encrypted com-link.

"I'm on them like flies on kek," Tul-Pa replied.

"Good. Do not fire until order is given. Remember, no kills permitted unless I say otherwise," Evra added, crouching behind a bush.

A second ship streaked in, little more than an orbital shuttle with a turret mounted on a pod in the front of it. It settled gently into the same clearing the Ebon Hawk had landed in.

Out of the Ebon Hawk stepped a giant of a man in a red vest, a black shirt and tan slacks. A massive heavy repeater with a bell-shaped mouth and gauges on the side of its barrel was carried casually in the man's hand. His hair was cut military style, and a prominent scar crossed the eyes of a weather beaten face.

Out of the Orbital shuttle stepped a man in flowing black robes, wearing a metal mask shaped to resemble a bearded man's face.

"You have what I asked for?" Canderous called out in a gruff tone.

"Of course," the man in the mask replied calmly, his voice sounding slightly computerized. With a wave of his hand, a squad of men and women in striped t-shirts and maroon slacks with light sabers fixed to shoulder holsters marched some sort of stasis pod out via repulsor lift modules attached to it from the shuttle.

"Built to your exact specifications Professor Ordo, and I assume you have what we asked for?"

Canderous held up a holodisk. "My life's work. All of it."

"Excellant. The Clerics of Alpherides thank you for your generosity and proclaim safe haven for you in anywhere our people control space," the Miralukan representative replied, taking the disc from Canderous' hand. "Your research will leap our own studies ahead by two hundred years, I daresay."

"Whatever, just let me see what you made," Canderous said, approaching the pod.

Evra got on the com-link. "Ex, you got a bead on the light saber wielders?"

"How could I not?" the Mandalorian replied.

"Everyone," Evra ordered, pulling out his Marek Original flak gun. "Sic 'em."

Fire opened up at three different angles, and the Miralukans were taken completely by surprise. Almost the the whole squad was killed instantly, either from the barrage of lightning Carra unleashed, the brutal spread fire of the Executioner's repeater, or the precise shots of Tul-Pa.

Evra unloaded on the Miralukan Representative, splitting open his chest with the powerful shots of the flak gun.

Tul-Pa had had the good sense to pop a few into Ordo's right arm and left leg, though everyone present knew better than to think it would stop a true Mandalorian. Evra had his carbine out, just in case.

Canderous was spitting blood, His right arm and left leg were a mess of circuits and wires, broken servo-motors made shredded artificial muscle tissue twitch still.

"Should've known it was too easy," Ordo breathed. "Should've known..."

"Should've known how bad your ass was going to get kicked," the Executioner chuckled, coming out of hiding.

Canderous rolled his eyes. "What more could I expect from a Feral Mandalorian?"

"Who you calling feral, old man?" the Executioner growled.

"Doctor Ordo, I presume?" Carra asked.

"Lady, nobody calls me 'Doctor'...without buying me a drink first. What do you say. Feel like the company of a 'real' man?"

Carra folded her arms. "I'm spoken for, but nice try."

"Wow. You got shot twice, your whole 'deal thing' has gone to hell and you're _still trying to pick up ladies?" _C'bal said in wonder. "Dude, you're so _awesome."_

Canderous chuckled. "Now what sort of Mandalorian would I be if silly things like this could ruin my day?"

"If you're done fawning, Adek," Evra said sternly, approaching the pod. "I'd like to see what we came to steal that's so damn important."

Evra peered into the clear casing of the pod.

There seemed to be a grey gas swirling around in it, letting what lay underneath remain indistinct.

A hand punched through the pod case, slamming into Evra's chest and knocking him back a good seven feet from the pod.

The figure was out before anyone could properly train their weapons on it. It whipped a leg, then an arm, at whatever it could reach at already blinding speed, and anyone who was hit was sent flying as well.

Carra swung at it with her light saber, but their too-quick opponent had already penetrated her guard and driven a sharp elbow into her stomach. C'bal was simply pummeled into submission, a bad cut splitting open his forehead. Black blood started leaking out.

It wore black armor, darker and cleaner looking than the Executioner's and slimmer than normal Mandalorian armor, the helmet's visor was gold and t-shaped, like all Mandalorian helmets. Tul-Pa could see some kind of circuit pattern on the armor: Implants.

Tul-Pa threw a bolt of lightning at it.

The lightning was simply absorbed, like being hit with a flashlight.

It was on her before she could react, slamming into her at speeds of a vehicle. Her body instantly liquefied to absorb the impact, not to mention wrap itself around her mysterious opponent, but it struggled mightily, eventually simply flinging bits of her off through sheer brute force.

The Executioner unleashed a set of strikes with his light saber, only to have the blade deflect harmlessly off a sudden energy shield. The opponent grabbed the Mandalorian by the throat and chucked him head first into a nearby tree. He lay still and did not move again.

Their opponent suddenly flew backward from a double blast from Evra's flak gun. It turned around, charging at high speed.

Evra remembered the warning from the Senator.

Pulling the Senator's light saber out, an elegant weapon of white enamel and a simple red jewel set at the pommel, which he had taken with him instead of his regular light saber, he pressed the activation stud.

A bright beam of cornflower blue light shot out, one and a half times the length of a regular light saber blade. It caught it his opponent off guard, piercing the skull

White blood and the blade exploded out of its head. It dropped to the ground as the blade finished slicing through its head in half. The shield circuits on its armor exploded, flinging more white blood everywhere.

Evra wiped some of it away from his face.

"Everybody alive?" he asked, amazed that the blow from his enemy hadn't broken his sternum.

"I'm fine," C'bal coughed, getting up. "Tul-Pa? What about you?"

"I'll live," she said, reforming her body.

"Guys, everything's swirling," Carra said.

"Hey guys I just realized the purpose of existence!" the Executioner said happily, getting up with a shake of his head. "Ah wait, lost it again."

"Wait a minute. This can't be..." C'bal said, going over to the body and examining it.

After a few moments, the normally pale C'bal went even whiter.

"Guys," he said nervously. "I have never seen anything like this. This...this is an _Android."_

Evra's mouth dropped open in surprise. Androids were forbidden. Beyond forbidden. Just being in possession of the schematics needed to create a wetware brain could get somebody the death penalty. If the Miralukans got their hands on this...

Riordo turned to Canderous.

"Do you know that it wouldn't actually matter what piece of tech I pull from that body, Ordo? You'd get the needle for all of them," Evra snorted.

"Cry me a river," Canderous replied with a roll of his eyes. "You barge in here and ruined months of work. You have no idea what I am trying to accomplish."

"A damn robot revolution is what!" Adek snapped. "Let's fry his ass, He's too dangerous to be left alive."

"I'll decide that," Riordo said curtly. He knelt down to Canderous, snatching the holodisc from his pocket.

"I bet there's a lot of stuff. You did say, 'Life's work', right?" Evra began, tossing it to C'bal. "Why are the Miralukans building Androids, which as you damn well know, is punishable by death in every civilized corner of the galaxy. They could get their planet bombarded for what they're trying to do. What could be at stake that would be worth the risk?" he demanded.

"The Miralukan's control of the outer rim is much more prevalent than anyone thinks. There are even planets in the Republic that value Miralukan currency over Republic and Sith credits. What, you think they've been sitting out the whole conflict? Nah...They have a navy that's just been building up to strength," Canderous answered. "They're highly xenophobic...yet they love to expand their territory. But this doesn't feel like that. To be honest, I don't know what they want my android schematics for, all I know is that in exchange I'm being paid massive amounts in their currency, as well as supplied a copy of the finished product. I'll have diplomatic immunity in their territory for the rest of my days and I'll be given a military funeral in the event of my death. This android they built for me here is just proof for me that they know what they're doing."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I'm going to get what I want. One way or another. And you can't stop me."

"Yeah? And why is that?" Evra asked.

A giant orange spotlight shown down from the top of the trees.

Dozens of Miralukan warriors in their striped shirt uniforms decloaked from Force camouflage.

Evra and the team instantly had their rifles trained on the nearest sniper posts in the trees.

"Attention, foreign agents! This is the Miralukan General Security Taskforce! You are here by ordered to drop your weapons or we will _open fire!" _shouted a female Miralukan in a maroon set of body armor with an active deep red light saber, much darker than the color Sith preferred.

"Carra!" Evra shouted.

A Force bubble surrounded the team and the injured Canderous, harmlessly deflecting the blasterfire the Miralukans unleashed, yet allowed the shots from Evra and his teams weapons to pass through.

Miralukans started dropping from their nests. But more decloaked, sometimes only eight feet from the team.

"There's too many of them!" C'bal yelled.

"JUST THE WAY I LIKE IT!" the Executioner yelled jovially, firing his repeater.

The Miralukans suddenly stopped firing, leaping out of the trees and withdrew into the darkness.

"Where the hell are they going?!" Evra snarled in bewilderment. "They had us cold."

A beastly, inhuman roar tore through the flowered-tree forest, sending chills up the backs of everyone present.

Carra gulped, eyes wide with fear. "I know that roar."

Canderous suddenly flew out of their presence as though some massively powerful gust of wind had simply carried him off. He vanished into the darkness of the forest, yelling.

"Had to hide Canderous for his own safety. Prepare yourselves," Carra said with a grim look Evra had never seen before on her face.

Evra was the first person to spot the small light approaching from the trees.

That light came from a cigarette. That cigarette was in the mouth of a man with tan, leathery skin, a more salt-than-pepper bowl shaped hair cut and a thin mustache with beady eyes that reminded Evra of nothing so much as a dead fish with a brown and white trench coat over Jedi robes.

Following close behind him was a tall, lanky individual wearing a set of brown and white bandages all over his arms, upper torso, and head completely covered, while the lower half was covered by the standard Jedi attire. He wore an odd, conical shaped hat (Some might have called it a coolie hat) His eyes were a pair of glowing blue orbs. He seemed to snarl almost as he walked, and Evra could've swore he heard the creature's teeth grinding.

The Jedi Evra had encountered on the previous mission, Visas Marr, approached last, gold saber active.

"There is no where left to flee, Sith," Marr said.

The man in the trench coat and Jedi robes, Bron-Son Kenobi, flicked his vice to the ground and stamped it out.

"Remember, Dimmak: Alive," was all he said in a Coruscanti accent, before stepping back.

Evra's eyes went wide with horror as he saw the impossible.

Two lightsabers, both of different, elaborate make, sprang forth from a dark seemingly howling portal in his chest, Two sky blue blades activated

Dimmak gave a roar and leapt.

Carra was first to meet Dimmak's blades, and he wasn't even holding them. they levitated in the air via his telekinesis, pressing against Carra's green blade with impossible force. He finally forced her back with a final exertion, sending her stumbling.

The Executioner moved in, giving his double blade a complex series of twirls, using his cape to try and confuse the deadly Jedi.

All to no avail, Dimmak simply gave a vicious swipe and knocked the Mandalorian back with an audible crack.

The Executioner didn't give up though, he reached out to try and choke Dimmak-only to be screaming as the Jedi casually took the arm the Mandalorian had dared allow to be in reach and twisted, snapping it easily. The Executioner screamed in real pain as a light saber pierced his knee and he was flung back into another flower covered tree trunk.

At almost the same time, Tul-Pa and C'bal had been attacking him from behind with light sabers, only to have his telekinesis go off in micro bursts around his body to deflect the strikes.

Dimmak wheeled around, disarmed C'bal with two strikes from his light saber to the brain eating shape shifter's legs and then unleashed a Force pulse so powerful Tul-Pa exploded into oozing black shadow-puddles on impact, which was then blasted by an even larger pulse that did all but obliterate them-not to mention sending Evra and Carra flying.

Evra hit the ground and winced as he felt something tweek out of place. Carra landed on the ground and charged forward, launching a Force push that tore some trees out of their roots. Dimmak bounded over them in an impressive show of agile flipping and was clashing his blades so quickly and ruthlessly against Carra's she seemed to instantly attain a sheen of thick sweat, desperately parrying his animalistic attacks.

Evra, still trying to get his bearings, aimed at Kenobi and squeezed off a shot.

Kenobi's blaster was out in an instant, firing at Evra's blaster bolts with his own...and deflecting all of them.

"You gotta be frakking kidding," Evra breathed, diving behind a rock as Kenobi returned fire.

Dimmak finally won the sword duel when he threw a hard fist into Carra's jaw, sending her flying with an audible crack.

The wrappings on Dimmak's body shot out, catching Carra in mid-air and slamming her into the ground before tossing her into Evra. Dimmak growled like an animal, stalking up to the both of them.

The next time the bandages shot out, Evra pulled Carra out of the way.

The bandages caught him, banging Evra's body repeatedly against trees and rocks. After a few moments of this savage thrashing, a bloodied, lacerated Evra stared in horror as he spotted the dark hole at the center of Dimmak's chest appear, growing ever wider and more sinister, and Evra felt himself being sucked into it.

Just as he was violently yanked forward to the portal, he felt an equally powerful presence pull him back.

He stared as Carra's blue eyes glittered with fierce determination, doing her all to keep him from being sucked into the void with telekinesis. Bron-Son fired at them and Visas tried to charge only to be fired on by a revived Executioner and C'bal. Kenobi and Visas dove behind a fallen log and stay down at the withering fire from the Executioner's repeater.

For Evra, the bandages meant to suck him into a prison where no escape could be possible had grown tighter, determined to pull him to a dreadful unknown that was on the other side of that portal.

He felt himself get closer to the chest-portal. The suction from it was now starting to pull in nearby bushes.

"Evra!" Carra yelled through the maelstrom of blaster fire and otherworldly power. "I can't hold onto you much longer! Do something!"

"BOSS!" C'bal yelled tossing something into the air.

Evra just barely caught it telekinetically, drawing it to him.

A thermal detonator.

Dimmak spotted it also and whipped out his light sabers with another set of bandages-only to be pulled back by a set of black tendrils from Tul-Pa, a third tendril of darkness issuing from her back wrapped around a nearby tree to keep her from being sucked in.

Evra armed the explosive, shutting it in just as he reached arms length of the portal, shoving it in and feeling a cold that spread from the submerged arm and suck the warmth from him.

By some miracle, he managed to yank his arm out of the portal, feeling something slick and heavy yank away with him, being flung into the distance.

Evra wasn't totally sure what occurred next. He remembered seeing a star ignite and then he was gracefully flung into a tree trunk, breaking a rib.

He touched his face and felt burns, the world around was unfolding in slow motion as he got up, headache wrapping his thoughts in a sheet of agony.

Dimmak's eyes went dim in brightness for an instant, staggered from the explosion. For the first time in years he had been brought to his knees.

Evra went over to help Carra up as Dimmak struggled to his feet.

Carra pushed his hand away.

"Evra," she said quietly, head lowered. "You may want to get away from me."

"Why?" he croaked, almost too hurt to care at this point.

He stepped back in terror as she raised her eyes.

They had gone yellow. A poisonous, sulfurous, yellow.

"Because," she said with a smile that reminded him all too much of Revan's. "I think I forgot to take my morning medication."

Evra scrambled back as Carra levitated up,

Dimmak was hit with a Force pulse that blasted apart the area behind him. The Jedi withdrew his light sabers and rushed forward, only to be smacked with another pulse of energy that shredded the bandages off of him.

Evra started with surprise-and an unexpected surge of pity-at the creature under the bandages.

Whatever hair he had possessed was long gone. Tumor scars and hardened sores hiding some white energy underneath dotted the body, the face a twisted mockery of what a normal face would be, teeth a wrong looking mixture of jagged and straight that did not quite fit totally into his mouth. His eyes were exposed, skeleton like sockets housing tiny blue pinpoints of light in each of them. The hands ended in twisted claws, the body emaciated looking.

The creature was flung back by a lightning strike from on high, summoned by Carra's now hideous will. Multiple bolts struck him, making the grass catch fire wherever he stood.

A final pulse from Carra drove Dimmak face first into the ground, and the lightning from the sky kept coming.

Evra was suddenly overcome by something odd.

He was running toward her before he realized.

"CARRA! STOP!" he yelled, grabbing her. Feral yellow eyes snapped to him and he felt his skin go icy.

"Let me finish him. He challenged me!" All who challenge me must DIE! Die to preserve the Galaxy!" she shouted.

"What's your son's name?" he asked simply, knowing if she got her way, things with her were going to be a lot worse for everyone. He had a tranquilizer gun hidden up his sleeve in case a quiet solution against a Force user was needed, It likely wouldn't work, but it was better to have it than not.

"What?" she asked, yellow eyes dimming.

"Your son's name?" Evra pressed.

"K-Krav. It's Krav."

"What was his favorite food?"

"Celery. Because I would put peanut butter on it. I...I..."

Carra dropped to the ground, the yellow in her eyes vanishing.

"H-help me. I-I don't know where I am..." Carra whimpered.

"Shhh. It'll be fine," Evra said, holding her close as she started crying.

Evra turned to find Visas and Kenobi holding the crumpled Dimmak.

"C'mon boy, you'll be fine, just hang on!" Kenobi said with a tone close to fear.

"He's badly injured," Evra growled. "We'll let you live if you let us live. Take him and go!"

"And Kenobi!" Tul-Pa said with a smirk. "I always said you relied too much on him"

"Forgive, us, Brother Dimmak. You left us no choice," C'bal said with a sad shrug, holding up the burly Executioner.

Kenobi gave only a rude gesture to them and lifted the injured warrior up with Visas' help, carrying him off into the depths of the forest.

C'bal approached Evra with a look of awe.

"Boss...do you have any clue what we all just did?" Adek asked. "WE. BEAT. DIMMAK."

"That's impressive, I take it?" Evra asked.

"Do you have any idea how many swordsmen that guy has killed? Hell the only reason Kenobi hung back is because we must have looked like some two-bit Force Users! We reached the big-leagues! We are officially the baddest team on the block!" he chirped, excited.

"Yeah... and the Jedi Order knows our faces now," Tul-Pa said. "Fortunately they seem to believe we are Sith."

"They'll be gunning for us," Evra grunted.

"So why let them leave?" Tul-Pa asked.

"Because we have our own problems. Carra had an episode, and we have to get her some medication before she has another. And because I noticed that the Miralukans were back."

Sure enough, the Miralukans decloaked around them, Dark Red light sabers drawn.

"You are all under arrest. You will tell us the location of Canderous Ordo or you die, spies of the Republic," The Leader, the same one that had first drawn her light saber, approached them. Her body armor gleamed in the night.

"How do you know we're Republic?" C'bal asked.

"Word travels...especially about a team of operatives who attempted to steal from Revan in her own castle," the Operative replied. "Your group is becoming notorious."

"What do the Miralukans need an android for?" Evra pressed, desperate for answers. "Planning to annex a weakened Republic only when you have an overwhelming advantage?"

"We are not interested in your Republic and never have been," a Miralukan woman with black hair spoke.

"The Androids are not for attacking the Republic. It's for what comes 'after'." the Operative answered. "No doubt you are the same team that infiltrated the Morenvan robotics facility? Tell me, isn't it strange how you 'happen' to attack a facility that conveniently holds the standard droid Anti-Jedi weapon, and here you are attacking a transaction that does not fall under Republic jurisdiction yet is regarded as a threat to Republic interests?"

"Don't be naive. We both know those androids would be a real pain in the Republic's ass-and...and..." Evra stopped as reasoning dawned on him. He couldn't believe he hadn't seen it.

DOOMSAYER was trying to build a militarized unit of Force Users to fruition as an alternative to the Jedi Order. Androids like the one they had killed before fighting Dimmak would be a massive hurdle to overcome unless...

...Unless the Republic got a hold of them and got a chance to study them...perhaps even replicate them.

The strange misgivings Evra had had about some missions-the surgery of Bastila, the disasters on Morenva, the Brainwashed Jedi now known as "Atton Rand', his infiltration into the Sith Academy and then stealing a Sith Meditation sphere, a vehicle perfectly suited to a skilled Force User's thought control. His own value as an undercover agent and knowledge of Sith Practice-little hints of an overarching scheme began to snap into place for Riordo.

Evra realized he had not been told everything important.

Evra also now did not trust Bluefin.

"Are you going to kill us?"

"Only if you refuse to reveal where Ordo is," the operative answered.

"Are we going to prison?" C'bal asked.

"Yes. And unless the Republic pays a blood price for the Operatives you slew, prison is where you shall stay-" one of the Operatives added.

A bloody tendril shot out of the Darkness and pierced the Man's face, flinging him back.

The Miralukans opened fire at whatever was attacking them, only to have more tendrils shoot out from the blackness and spear every one of the operatives through the chest, flinging them backward, dead.

Evra trained his carbine on the darkness from where the monstrous weapons had shot out.

Nothing happened. Evra sweated, wondering why he wasn't dead yet.

All that happened was a sweet female voice chuckled from the darkness of the woods.

"Thanks for the lift...Handsome," the voice said.

Evra suddenly sensed whatever had been there was gone.

He stared at his team. They hadn't been harmed by the creature either. C'bal got up shaking.

"Please don't let that be who I think it was," he hissed.

"Right. Team? We're leaving," a weary Evra said, too focused on getting out of this place to ask what he meant.

Carra stood up, concentrating and tried to locate where she had left the injured Canderous.

Ordo was gone. He had wised up and slipped away during the fighting.

"Sorry guys, he's gone. And he got so far away it would be dangerous to go after him," Carra said.

Evra, in the meantime, now had more questions than answers. And those questions made him do something very risky when he and the team were back on the B'lerofon.

The debreifing had been...awkward, to say the least. After all of them were sent to the infirmary with the sole exception of Tul-Pa. They were interrogated by Bluefin and other men in dark suits. C'bal had desperately wanted to show the holodisk he had managed to protect in the heat of battle but Evra had forbidden it. Bluefin seemed particularly angry when he learned that Canderous had escaped in the fighting, and the fact that his team really hadn't had a choice in the matter didn't soften the blow.

It had ended with Bluefin angrily storming out, and Evra escorted back to his quarters by armed guard.

As soon as he had been shoved into his own room and shut the turbo doors, he was surprised by Tul-Pa, who kissed him furiously, ripping into his jumpsuit. He accepted it, finally giving into temptation after weeks of it, and pulled her close, kissing her back. He wanted to clear his head, anything to get the troubling new picture he had of the Republic out of it. Anything for the world to make sense again.

Needless to say, he didn't sleep that night.


End file.
